The Synthesis Trilogy Book One: Salvific
by The Seven Horcruxes
Summary: Harry always wanted to meet his parents, but he had been resigned to the fact that they were dead for as long as he could remember. That didn't matter, though; it didn't stop him from wanting to meet them in person, and it didn't stop him, Hermione, Ron, or Ginny from being thrown back to 1977, or stop him from attempting to save them. A time-travel fic with a difference!
1. Prologue: Symmachy

_A/N: Why, hello there readers! Welcome to the first story of The Synthesis Trilogy. Written by these seven wonderful people below. The next two stories in our trilogy will be Serendipity and Synergy. We hope that you plan to stick around for them, it is going to be a really wild ride for all of us. We also recommend that you listen to the song as you read, it will heighten the experience. All chapters will have songs attached to them, picked out by Diadem._

_The premise behind writing this story was to take a sub genre of the Harry Potter fandom that we thought held particularly cliche or overused ideas, and inject a few original ideas of our own. Each story in the trilogy will deal with a different cliche, and hopefully breathe new life into it. It was Diadem who came up with the idea for the collaboration- she posted a topic on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum, and we responded. After a frantic day or so of organising, we finally found ourselves on Google Docs with a blank page in front of us. That was when the fun began. Our outline (currently at 14,052 words) was the birthplace of everything: we discussed themes, ideas and more. We even had a couple of arguments, although they never progressed beyond fervently defending our ideas, and never fell into negativity._

_We have introductions on our profile from most of the members._

_Thanks for coming! We hope that you enjoy reading this as much as we did writing it. - The Seventh Horcrux, Scar._

_Disclaimer: We, The Seven Horcruxes, hold no ownership over the Harry Potter series, any song that my be found connected to our chapters, and anything else that you may recognize having come from another source. We only claim ownership of our ideas and creations._

* * *

**The Synthesis Trilogy**

**Book One: Salvific**

_**-A Collaboration by The Seven Horcruxes-**_

Diadem- The Royal Scribe

Goblet- Spiralling-Down

Ring- A Phoenix From The Ashes

Scar- Lady Phoenix Fire Rose

Snake- Potterheadx10

Locket- Yellowtail555

Diary- Owluvr

* * *

**Prologue- Symmachy**

_**- fighting jointly against a common enemy -**_

* * *

**Metric- Speed the Collapse**

_Pushed away, I'm pulled toward_

_A comedown of revolving doors_

_Every warning we ignored_

_Drifting in from distant shores_

_The wind presents a change of course_

_A second reckoning of sorts_

_We were wasted waiting for_

_A comedown over revolving doors_

_Fate don't fail me now..._

* * *

There was a clinking of glass as Harry's fist slammed down on the table.

"I can't just stand by and do nothing!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, Harry, but-"

"They're my parents! He's on his way right now, and we're sitting in a pub doing nothing!"

"It's so dangerous to meddle with time; there's a reason why it's illegal... I understand why you want to save them, but-"

"No, you don't understand!"

Harry felt instantly guilty for shouting as he saw Hermione's eyes fill with tears, but he pressed on regardless. He suddenly was filled by an all-consuming purpose he'd rarely felt since his hunt for the Deathly Hallows. Images of the childhood that he could have had flashed through his mind, and his resolve hardened further. Why couldn't Hermione see how important this was to him?

"They're my parents, Hermione," he repeated, more quietly.

He stared down fixedly at his lap, his mouth set hard and his shoulders tensed. He felt his eyes prickle as his vision blurred, but he blinked back the tears, his stomach twisting in a combination of fear and shame. He felt a slight pressure as Ginny placed a comforting hand on his arm, but Harry just shrugged her off.

Harry gripped his glass tightly within his hand, nestled between his sweaty palm and his prominent, white knuckles. His fingers clutched the ridged glass, like a spider attached to its web. Although, he didn't feel like the spider: he was the fly, caught in an intricate web of shadows and uncertainty. Indeed, he felt the spider drawing ever closer, the strands that had drawn the four of them to the pub in Godric's Hollow becoming ever tighter and more meaningful. He felt that his entire life had led to this moment, even defeating Voldemort in the Final Battle had been a mere stepping stone towards the final confrontation that lay ahead. He couldn't allow his friends to stop him, but he desperately hoped that they would join him.

It was almost as if Ginny had read his mind. Placing her thinner, half-pint glass down upon the mahogany table, she approached him with confidence. Harry noticed that she wore the same fiery expression she wore back when she first kissed him in the Gryffindor common room all that time ago. It was uniquely her, and Harry felt his stomach flip with nerves. She was filled with fiery conviction, and as Ron had once told him, she would never change her mind when she got "that bloody scary look". Harry hoped that she was going to side with him, but he wouldn't allow her to stop him from rescuing his parents either way. Their gazes met, and for a second, he stared into the chocolatey brown depths of her eyes. And then Ginny reached out her hands, her slender fingers wrapping themselves around Harry's.

"I once told you that if you've got enough nerve, anything's possible," she said softly.

Harry's heart began to pound harder: was Ginny saying she was on his side? His throat constricted and he nodded mutely.

"I'm not going to let you leave me behind again. Whatever you decide to do, I'm coming with you," finished Ginny.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it upon seeing the look in Ginny's eyes. His thoughts turned to the last time he had left her behind and the consequences of that. He wondered if it really would be so bad to take her along with him; she had proved time and time again that she could handle herself: besides, he had a feeling that he would need her support in the long run.

He turned to the redhead, having looked down at his hands as he was thinking, and stared into her eyes. "Yes, you can come!" With that, he placed his head in his hands. He felt Ginny place her hand on his shoulder. She didn't say anything, which he was grateful for.

Ignoring Hermione's small hiss of indignation, Harry turned to the window, peering out anxiously. The street outside was sprinkled with a dusting of snow, the street lamps throwing out a corona of light that made the pure snow glitter with unfamiliar shades. The snow accumulated heaviest against the street lamps themselves, or upon the branches of trees, causing them to creak dangerously in the light wind. All was silent save for the whistling wind and Harry's breath, which formed a light condensation against the window, even in the relative heat of the pub.

He leaned forward and rubbed irritably at the misty film which gave the outside world a strange, ethereal quality. Through the fog clouding the view, the street lights seemed brighter, harsher- the snow not quite as pure. When it was swept away, clarity returned, in the form of a muggle vehicle. The spell was broken: sound returned, the squeal of the engine and the muffled conversation of the muggles frequenting the pub hammering against his senses. Harry shook himself from his stupor, returning to an alert tension. Indeed, all his senses were heightened in preparation for the moment when everything he had fought for, both in this time and his own, would come to a conclusion.

He sighed, worried about his lapse of concentration: he realised that the division between his friends was taking its toll upon him. He needed to resolve it, one way or another. If they stood in his way, he would not hesitate to do what was necessary to get by them, even if he would not enjoy a second of it. 'At least' he thought, smiling at Ginny, 'he had one ally he could count on.'

He took a deep breath and turned to face Ron and Hermione. Hermione wore a frown that reminded him of Professor McGonagall's expression whenever a particularly daring student broke the rules. For McGonagall, there was no greater crime, short of casting the unforgivables, and it seemed that Hermione had carried their former transfiguration teacher's pedantic obsession with the rules to a new level. She had nearly always abided by the rules, but Harry thought that she would always break them if it would secure her friends' happiness or wellbeing. She certainly seemed conflicted- Harry was sure that her conscience was battling her very nature- but Harry could see that she would struggle to allow him to change history. Even though it gave Harry his parents back, Hermione's very nature screamed that the rules were there for a reason and that messing with time was dangerous: one could not possibly predict all of the ramifications a change could cause.

"Are you two coming or not?" Harry said, slightly more aggressively than he had intended.

Hermione bit her lip. "Please, think about it rationally, Harry... The risks would be unbelievable." She turned to Ron, a faint look of desperation etched over her features. "Ron, you see what I'm talking about, don't you?"

With a flicker of hope, Harry noticed that Ron didn't quite manage to meet her eye as he mumbled something unintelligible in reply.

"Ron?" he said, trying to communicate in his gaze just how much he was relying on his best mate.

Ron promptly stood up without warning, his large frame causing the glasses upon the table to rock dangerously, their contents threatening to spill out across the table. Several Muggles turned to look at the commotion, before turning back to their drinks.

"Listen, Hermione," Ron said, clapping his hand on Harry's one remaining shoulder- the other having been claimed by Ginny- and meeting her eyes with his own, "I realised something, here in the past, that I should have realised long ago. I didn't even understand it during our Horcrux hunt, because I always knew they were there: I could go back to them. Dealing with Fred's death was hard, but getting through that made me realise what I had that Harry doesn't. No, it's not money, fame, or the best skills on a broomstick I've ever seen. Because to Harry, I had something far more precious than any of that, and it was something I took for granted most of the time. I had a family: a bloody brilliant family! I wouldn't trade them for the world. I want Harry to know what it's like, I want him to have the chance to have a Mum and a Dad of his own, even though he's practically a Weasley in Mum's eyes." He turned to Harry, filled with far too many emotions to put into words, but he knew that their friendship had truly reached new heights. Gone was the petty jealousy and resentment of his youth, replaced with what Ron could only describe as love. "Harry, mate: I'm with you until the end."

"Thanks, Ron," said Harry. A rush of affection for his friend swept over him, and a smile spread gradually over his face. He let out a short laugh. "Honestly, mate, this is what I've been trying to tell you for years! Seriously, though: thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you..."

Ron grinned back at Harry, his cheeks and ears rapidly flushing their characteristic Weasley red- in fact, his face had acquired a colour surprisingly similar to that of his maroon jumper- and he clapped Harry on the back. At that point, he seemed to notice that he was still standing, and he abruptly dropped back into his seat, folding his long limbs awkwardly into the chair.

Hermione sighed. She knew that this was not something that she would normally do, who knew what would happen, but with everything put against the happiness of one of her friends: a friend that deserved it more than anything in the world, it was that right choice for her to make. "Alright then, I'll go with you."

Harry stared at Hermione, shocked, and he had no doubt that Ginny and Ron were doing just the same, staring at her, eyes wide. Had he heard her right? Was Hermione really agreeing with them?

"You're serious?" Harry asked, and Hermione just nodded. "You're coming with us, then?" Hermione nodded again.

"What made you change your mind?" Harry asked out of curiosity. He didn't want to push his luck: with something this big, he needed all the help he could get. But even so, he was curious, this kind of thing didn't sound at all like Hermione.

She furrowed her brows in concentration, as if she honestly didn't know why she did it herself, but then, finally, she answered. "Oh, Harry, what Ron said, well, it made me think twice about it. Sure, what we're doing is wrong. And dangerous, really dangerous. But you deserve a family just as much as we do, if not more. We're your friends, aren't we? Friends are supposed to help each other out, and well, we're with you, Harry."

"Well... Thanks, all of you. I really appreciate it," he started, looking from Hermione, to Ron, and then to Ginny, before starting all over again, pausing to think for a moment. Then, at last, he continued. "Shall we get going, then?"

Their first steps onto the virgin snow - the pure white covering crunching underneath their feet - felt strangely as if they were striding into a new destiny. Indeed, the four friends were rebelling against fate itself, it finally seemed as if they were throwing away the chains of prophecy that had bound them to a singular purpose for so many years. They were going to disturb history itself as surely as they were disturbing the frozen ice crystals around them, and the muggle residents; the rambunctious drunks, the unfortunate beggars, all the hellish denizens of the night scattered away from the group of wizards, inexplicably terrified by their purposeful progress.

Godric's Hollow was a sleepy town, full of sleepy people. They plodded along through their lives, ignorant of events outside their village and the surrounding area. Occasionally big news filtered in from surrounding villages, but it was infrequent and treated with contempt by traditionalists, who believed that they should maintain an insular community, separated away from the world's ills. The system of ignorance worked well, but when four strangers invaded their pub, drank their beer, and left with purpose as opposed to the dreamy stumbling most pub crawlers left with, the residents felt that they had the right to be suspicious. Yet the strangers easily incited their fury when they began to head towards the centre of town.

Not even the traditional isolationists could have hidden the reports of terrorist attacks, and the fear sweeping England, Scotland and Wales' news. In June, eight IRA prisoners had escaped a prison in Belfast, and earlier that very month, eleven days before in fact, an explosive attack in Belgium had resulted in three deaths and more than one hundred people wounded. Despite the incredibly unlikely occurrence of terrorists deciding to attack Godric's Hollow, the residents remained loyal and vigilant against the foreign threat.

When the strangers entered the town, without any means of transport, the villagers simply carried on with their lives, although they couldn't shake off the tension permeating the air. It wasn't odd to see four young adults walking around together in the city, but in Godric's Hollow it was a foreign sight. They looked like city dwellers, wearing clothes that pointed to their inexperience with the countryside. Fashion was usually exchanged for practicality in Godric's Hollow. That was only the start of the strangers oddities, however.

The tall, some would say lanky, redhead was the one to order the drinks, and he started to pay with strange bronze and silver coins that the barkeep had never seen before, until the brunette, bookish girl corrected him with a sharp whisper. He then smiled sheepishly as she pulled out a five pound note to purchase their drinks with. The bartender glared at them suspiciously before handing over their change, the seeds of suspicion already planted within his mind.

The idea that the strangers were foreign terrorists caught on throughout the town like wildfire. The town, at its core, was built upon the foundations of gossiping housewives and rumours spread by ignorant and cruel children. Terrorists, a word that was hardly ever used by the villagers, was terrifying, but it carried a romanticised excitement: the thrill of a reward from the authorities.

The final nail in the proverbial coffin of the foreigners came when they started to argue amongst themselves. The inhabitants of the pub substituted their argument, barely audible, with what they expected to hear. When they did catch words, it only affirmed their suspicions. Words like "illegal", "death" and "risks" reached their dumbfounded ears, and what respectable, decent parents called their child Hermione? It was clearly a foreign name. When the strangers left the pub and headed towards the centre of town, a strange, dignified purpose in their stride, the villagers knew that they had to stop them or face losing their beloved town. A strange fury gripped them that few had ever felt before.

Harry checked his watch again, wary of the approaching attack. They were cutting it too close for his liking: Voldemort would arrive within the hour. The tension was palpable. He looked around the town square, confused that it was deserted; he knew that Godric's Hollow was a traditional village, but he expected to see some signs of life, especially on Halloween. He supposed that they had tasted the unease in the air, and had fled inside. As he approached his parents' house, he felt the same desire: he wanted to hide from the dread that gripped him. He wondered if Hermione was right, that it was a mistake to mess with time.

Harry shook himself, realising that he couldn't flee. He couldn't allow fear to consume his convictions. He had the opportunity to save his family and start his life anew. He strode forward once again, his friends following in his wake. It was then, of course, that Harry's luck ran out. The cloud cover shifted, bathing the town centre in the harsh, somewhat clinical moonlight. In the middle of the square stood a group of muggles: the moonlight highlighted their angry snarls and threw their weapons into sharp relief.

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, eyeing the weapons warily, "We can't use magic against them, it could give us away!"

"Alright, we do this the muggle way, then."

Harry readied his fists as the muggles charged, his stance firm, his expression grim and determined. Even though he couldn't see them, he knew that his friends had also readied themselves for the attack, just moments before it started. As he ducked, weaved, punched and kicked his way through the onslaught, he wondered, not for the first time, how the hell he had ended up in such an insane situation.


	2. Chapter One: Syvatic

**Chapter One- Sylvatic **

_**- belonging to or found in woods -**_

* * *

**Metric- Artificial Nocturne**

_I'm just as fucked up as they say_

_I can't fake the daytime_

_Found an entrance to escape into the dark_

_Got false lights for the sun_

_It's an artificial nocturne_

_It's an outsider's escape for a broken heart_

_Hiding out in the back_

_Like shadows in a stranger's dream_

_Hiding out in the back together_

_Hiding out in the back forever_

* * *

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry slumbered peacefully in the last of the summer warmth- the grounds sparkled as the sunlight hit the dewdrops nestled within the grass and the Whomping Willow basked lazily in the heat, not even attacking a particularly brave Sparrow that weaved through its branches. August was stretching languidly into September, which heralded the arrival of Autumn, but more importantly, the return of the students.

Behind the sun soaked walls of the ancient castle, teachers returned to their classrooms, the house elves flew into a cleaning frenzy and Argus Filch roamed the halls, his mop and bucket his constant companions. The caretaker was hardly ever seen without his nose buried deep in the latest Gambol and Japes catalogue, already anticipating the students' uncanny ability to break the rules. When he wasn't researching the latest prank equipment, he was frantically updating his banned items list. He was filled with a small flicker of dread whenever he contemplated the return of the students. It was 1977: the infamous pranking groups known as the 'Marauders' were returning for their final year. Filch had been at odds with the group for their entire time at Hogwarts, and he hated them: their messy, obnoxious pranks made his job a lot harder than it needed to be. He vowed to himself, with a wheezing chuckle, that he would crack open the vintage bottle of firewhiskey he'd been saving for a special occasion when they finally left.

In his office, taking the last few days before the rowdy students returned to relax, Albus Dumbledore sat upon the high backed wooden chair behind his desk, engaged in conversation with old headmaster, Phineas Nigellus, all worries of the rapidly darkening Tom Riddle gone from his mind as he popped the occasional lemon drop into his mouth.

The Quidditch pitch, possessing little cover from the bright sun, had become slightly wild: the grass was far longer than standard Quidditch regulations decreed, particularly colourful flowers dotted the pitch in clusters, and a group of gnomes had invaded the field, hailing from the nearby Forbidden Forest. The Quidditch pitch would be restored to normal conditions on the day before the students returned, but was usually put off for as long as possible. It was a thing of beauty, an untamed animal allowed to run free. The herbology teacher, 36 year old Pomona Sprout, claimed the spot as her own upon arriving at the school. She was often joined by Silvanus Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. While she was there for the plants and Silvanus for the creatures that frequented the overgrown field, they struck up an unlikely bond. They spent hours talking, painting with watercolours (a hobby they both shared, even though Kettleburn possessed only one hand) or merely sitting in companionable silence, enjoying the delights of nature.

Meanwhile, in a hidden room on the seventh floor only accessible to those who knew its secret, was a group of two young men and two young ladies. The back of the room held the only two members of the group who remained on their feet. One was a tall and lanky redhead, he was currently engaged in a heated shouting match with his companion. She had extremly bushy brown hair, that had been pulled back into a messy ponytail to keep it out of the way. She held her hands on her hips as she verbally battered the equally furious redhead; he kept attempting to make himself heard, but she kept overriding all of his attempts.

The other two members of the group were sitting on a couch in the corner of the opposite side of the room. The other woman in the group was rubbing the back of the fourth and final member. He was sitting there with his head in his hands and mumbling incomprehensibly under his breath. She was another redhead, but smaller and more slender, and he had jet black hair, that stuck up all over the place. Both of them were rather used to the arguments, as they happened on a regular basis, so they easily blocked out the conflict.

Harry groaned, just as Ron and Hermione's argument came to a head, with Hermione throwing up her hands in anger before storming away. Ron remained where he was, still fuming. Harry looked up and turned to Ginny. "What are we going to do?"

Ginny eyed Harry and sighed heavily. "Get them to shut up to begin with," the redhead glowered in the direction of the arguing couple, "And then perhaps try and get our bearings a bit better. Finding out exactly where we are might be useful."

Harry smiled wearily at Ginny. He had always admired her for this, her courage, her determination; and he was suddenly ridiculously glad to have her by his side- where other girls in her position would have dissolved into tears, Ginny stayed vigilant, her brown eyes darting around the small, plain room they had appeared in, taking in every nook and cranny.

"But what on earth is going on?" Harry asked impatiently, running a hand through his already mussed hair. "One minute we were in the entrance hall- we'd defeated Voldemort- and the next find ourselves in the Forbidden Forest and now... well, now we're here, hiding. I don't what's happening, but I don't like it."

"Whatever it is," Ginny added, "We need a plan of action. Maybe we should go out- see if we can find someone or at least something."

"That would be absolutely ridiculous," Hermione strode over to the pair and sat heavily down beside Harry, still glaring in Ron's direction. "What if this is some kind of trap set up by... you know, He Who Must Not Be-"

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione," This time it was Ron who interrupted the conversation- his ears had turned bright red and he loomed over the trio on the sofa, "He's dead now. You can call him Voldemort."

"But... what if he's not dead?" Hermione insisted. "What if this is just some kind of complex legilimency He Who- alright- _Voldemort,_put on us to make us think he was dead, but in all reality we're actually in some kind of dream world that-"

"This isn't one of your stupid novels, Hermione," Ron snapped at her. "Think realistically."

"I don't see you coming up with any suggestions, Ronald," Hermione replied, the newly static baby hairs escaping from her already messy ponytail.

Before Ron and Hermione could start arguing again, Ginny (utilising an improvised tactic that Harry had to admit worked masterfully) wrenched her shoe from her foot and threw it as hard as she could at Ron's head. Not satisfied with the loud thud it made as the sole connected with his forehead or the pained cry, she summoned it back to her hand and threw it again with startling precision. Hermione, shocked by Ginny's brutal attack on her brother, merely stuttered, struck speechless.

"Shut up, the both of you!" She yelled, scowling angrily. In contrast to her brother, she went even paler when angry, her ivory complexion causing her freckles to stand out sharply against her face.

Ron glared at Ginny, opening his mouth to say something only for it to snap back shut, a dawning realisation spreading across his face.

"Gin," he said, holding out his arms, "C'm'ere"

Wiping angrily at the tears threatening to fall, feeling that crying in front of Harry would only be seen as a weakness, she flung herself at her brother and buried her head into his shirt. She shook with the effort of holding in her sobs, but when Ron started crying, she couldn't help but join in.

Harry was shocked at the sudden change in emotion, until it finally dawned on him why they were so upset. Fred had been killed just hours earlier. He felt selfish; he had been so absorbed in his own problems, he had failed to realise the gravity of the situation. Fred was dead, he was gone, and the world seemed dimmer for it.

He cast his mind back to when everything had changed, and all the rules had flown out of the window. He pictured the moment Voldemort had fallen, the deafening silence that seemed to pulse in his ears in time with his heartbeat.

Sitting still, glassy eyes staring at the sobbing siblings ahead of him, Harry lost himself in the memory.

* * *

The chaos of the celebration of Voldemort's defeat had caused Harry, Ron and Hermione to escape out to the Entrance Hall, which was mostly empty. They needed some time to themselves, Luna having given him the perfect opportunity to slip under his cloak. He joined up with his two best friends and they made their way out into the entrance hall.

As they were about to head up the marble staircase, he noticed someone sitting alone on the floor by the remaining three House Hourglasses. Recognising who it was, he pulled the other two along with him, pulling off the cloak as he walked.

Ginny looked up, hearing footsteps approach her, and upon seeing who it was, she a gave a rather weak smile. "Hi."

"Hi," Harry replied, sitting down beside her, "Are you alright?"

Ron and Hermione sat silently across from them, the unforgiving stone floor cold against them, even through their clothes.

Ginny took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm fine."

Hermione leaned forward and opened her mouth and started to say, "Gin-"

Boom!

The world turned to color and chaos. It seemed like they were engulfed in swirls of green, occasionally some other colors coming through. It was all a rush around them. Occasionally they caught a glimpse of something, but it was gone before they could see it.

After what felt like forever, they were dropped to the ground. Harry felt himself slam into, he had no chance to get his bearings before he felt another body land on top of him. His face ended up covered in fiery red hair.

Ginny muttered a string of swear words as she pulled herself up off of Harry.

He shook his head trying trying to reorient himself to reality. As he stood he looked around, noticing that Ron and Hermione were in the same boat as he just was, except this time it was Ron who landed on top. They were now getting to their feet, Hermione wincing slightly.

The next thing he noticed was, the Slytherin Hourglass, it looked as though the same thing had happened to them had brought it along with it. It was not was not as lucky, the impact with the ground had shattered the glass, the metal frame was badly damaged and the emeralds inside it were scattered all over the forest floor.

His brain having caught up with him, he realized that they were now standing in the middle of a small glade in a forest.

Before he could think much on it, Ron's voice cut into his thoughts,

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, "What the hell just happened?"

"I don't know," said Ginny.

Hermione had her brow creased as she thought back on it.

Unfortunately, further speculation on Hermione's part was halted by a cacophony of piercing shrieks that tore through the air. The four friends turned almost instantaneously towards the source of the sound- their instincts honed from their previous battles- and it was fortunate that they reacted so swiftly. They just managed to dodge a herd of thestrals; the beasts would have trampled them in their sheer terror.

Neither of the four friends commented on the fact that they could all see the thestrals, instead glancing at each other quizzically, barely able to see each other over the stampeding beasts.

"Something must have spooked them." Ron yelled, breaking the tension that was punctuated by the creatures mismatched hoofbeats. Indeed, all four had seen the fear etched into the Thestrals very being: their eyes had been locked open, their mouths bared in a frozen snarl, the teeth seeming to shift and warp under the rivulets of foam that flew forward in time with their heavy, laboured breathing. Their flanks shone with the unmistakable sheen of sweat, their wings were weighed down with assorted foliage and their ears fell flat against their heads. "Spooked", Harry thought to himself bitterly, was a huge understatement.

As the final thestral faded into the darkness the forest readily offered and, as a result of the heavy shadows littering the forest floor, slipped out of their sight, all fell silent once again. It wasn't however, the confused and disorientated silence left in the wake of their arrival, where nobody could utter a sound through the fuzzy fog that had seeped into their heads. The silence that had descended upon the clearing possessed a far more sinister quality that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end.

Then, the clicking started. A familiar, primal, clicking that had permeated the background chaos of the battle only hours earlier. Ron's yell confirmed his fears.

"Sp-Sp-Spi-Spiders!"

The creatures stood still upon the small ridge that formed one edge of the roughly concentric clearing. They merely watched, waiting, ticking their mandibles together occasionally. Harry couldn't help but compare the sound to the beating of a clock, a clock that was steadily counting down the seconds they had left before the acromantula launched their assault. Somehow, the frozen tableau seemed more threatening than if they were to charge, the potential horror of the attack far more terrifying within the imagination of the four humans. The spiders seemed to hum with motion without moving, coiled like springs: Harry knew that they could leap upon them at any moment.

"Anybody got any bright ideas?" He asked tersely, frantically searching through his repertoire of spells. Students ran a detailed, focused course on dark creatures in their seventh year, expanding on the concepts covered in their third and sixth years. It was at that point that Harry regretted not taking his seventh year for the most fleeting of moments, before crushing the thought brutally. If they had attended their seventh year, Voldemort would not have been defeated.

"Just one!" Hermione whispered, although it carried enough to break him from his thoughts, and or the spiders to click and hiss menacingly. "Remember Lockhart's Cornish Pixies? Well, just get ready to run!"

Harry and Ron nodded grimly, while Ginny simply raised an eyebrow in confusion, while keeping a wary eye on Harry. She wasn't aware of Hermione's plan, and they were so used to working in a trio that Ginny was mostly ignored in such a tense situation. She decided that she would watch Harry and follow what he did, after all, he had just saved the Wizarding world, he would be able to deal with a few acromantula.

'_Ok,'_ Ginny admitted to herself, '_there's a whole bloody army of them,'_.

Hermione raised her wand, but the spiders seemed to be aware of what that signified. Without further warning, they attacked, leaping from their hill in a flurry of legs, fangs and crumbling rocks. A spell from Hermione- "_Immobilus Maximus!_"- led to to the spiders' petrification, remaining as frozen as they were upon the rocky ridge.

"What are you waiting for?" Ron shouted, his voice wavering in terror, "Run!"

The redhead's sharp admonishment wrenched them out of their stupor at the beautiful and slightly comical sight before them. They scrambled away from their attackers, uneasy in regards to turning away, but very eager to escape. Eventually fear won out, and they leapt into motion, desperately attempting to get as far away from the incensed acromantula as possible.

The further and faster they ran, the more blurred the world became around them. Leaves and bushes joined the mud and tree trunks in an abstract painting, the swirling greens and bold browns combining in incomprehensible combinations. Throughout the messy, haphazard patterns, flashes of pure white and warm yellows met their eyes, reminding them of the summer heat outside the constricting artificial nocturne the forest created.

Then, as the jarring pandemonium of the spiders breaking free reached their ears, the world seemed to snap back into focus. Every branch, leaf and root was highlighted in excruciating detail: Harry could even see a bowtruckle within one large tree, it's eyes glinting from the flashes of light that illuminated their path. Every leaf shone with different colours, the bark of every tree possessed different grooves that spoke of different experiences. A particularly daring student had even carved their name entwined with another student's, the roughly hewn letters surrounded by a crudely drawn heart.

It was a good sign: they were close to reaching the edge of the forest. Catching Ginny's eye, he grinned broadly at her; they both knew that escape was close. Her eyes shone with her excitement, dampened with only the slightest hint of fear, her hair streamed out behind her like a beacon of hope, a flame of passion.

His breaths came in gasps, his pulse loud in his ears. He could see the trees thinning out, their freedom just metres away. A particularly jagged branch cut a gash across his cheek, but he failed to notice, intent on escaping the pursuing acromantulas, the clicks of their poisoned mandibles growing louder with every second. The blood flew in rivulets down his cheek, staining his neck and the collar of his shirt. He ignored the burning pain and the sticky wet sensation steadily spreading across his front. Leaping over a large root blocking his way, the trees gave way to blinding light. He screwed up his eyes and threw his hand over his face as he stumbled to his knees. Blinking furiously, he pushed himself up and continued to run, eventually stopping as the final tree fell away behind them.

He gasped for breath, his chest heaving in and out, three times.

Then the entire world tilted on its axis.

Groaning, wedged between the ground and the vibrating, throbbing pressure that pounded down upon him, he opened his eyes, seeing his companions in the same position.

Twenty seconds later, the force stopped, and he could get to his feet, his legs trembling and weak. The unseen force was replaced however, by an all too familiar sound. The high pitched shriek of the caterwauling charm tore through the air, and he instinctively clutched his hands over his ears.

"Harry!" Ron yelled, the sound muffled by the intruder alarm, "What the hell is going on?"

Harry himself was frozen in shock: Hogwarts was whole and undamaged. The grounds were green, not ravaged and ashen. The west tower still stood strong against the clear blue sky, and the distant quidditch pitch was not burned to the ground. Not even Dumbledore's tomb remained, the ground untouched as if it had never been there.

"I don't know, I just don't know." He repeated to himself, over and over again, unable to stop himself. He was locked in a spiral of confusion, he wondered if he was dreaming, having a nightmare. He couldn't bear to see Hogwarts untouched, when he knew that in reality, it was devastated.

"Harry!" Ginny stated sharply, her hand gripping his arm tightly. Her touch broke him out of his minor breakdown and he turned to face his friends, his confused rambling still echoing within his head.

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but we need to get somewhere safe. I don't know about you, but I don't fancy joining the spiders in the forest. Any ideas?"

"What about the Room of Requirement?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

Harry sighed, "I'm pretty sure the room was destroyed by fiendfyre, and how are we meant to get up there? The whole staircase was taken out by that giant."

Hermione raised an eyebrow and pointed at Hogwarts. "Does Hogwarts look destroyed to you? Besides, we need to get somewhere safe so we can figure out what's going on."

"Fine." Harry accepted, trusting Hermione's logic, "Let's get up there before we get attacked for 'intruding'."

Ron and Hermione nodded, but Ginny spoke up voicing a concern. "How do we get there without being seen?"

That froze the others. Ginny was right, it was broad daylight and if they went out of the shade of the forest someone would see them, and they had no guarantee if it would be friend, or foe.

All eyes turned to Hermione, who looked somewhat affronted at that. "What, do you expect me to have answers to everything?"

They didn't answer.

She sighed, "Harry, where is the cloak?"

Realisation dawned in his eyes, if it had been any other time would have slapped himself for not thinking of his Father's cloak sooner. He searched his person and frowned. He searched for it again, this time coming a shocking conclusion. "It's gone!"

"Honestly," said Hermione, pulling out her wand. "Accio Harry's cloak!" Nothing happened.

"There's no time for this," said Ron, glancing nervously at the forest behind them. "We need to get out of here now."

Hermione shook her head, "Hold still," she told Ron sternly. She gave him, Ginny, and finally Harry a sharp rap on the top of her head, before doing the same to herself. Harry felt the sickeningly familiar cold trickle of a the Disillusionment Charm going down his neck.

"Let's go," he said, once the spell had fully came into effect. They slowly started making their way across the grounds, and into the castle.

Strangely, they did not encounter anybody in the Entrance Hall and the intruder alarm was dispelled by the time they reached the second floor. Harry assumed that the teachers were searching the grounds for intruders, but wondered why they had removed the alarm so quickly.

"They must have thought a muggle wandered onto the grounds, like that time in our sixth year. The teachers were jumpy for weeks though, we can't risk setting off that alarm again. We need to get into the Room of Requirement before they cast it again." Hermione whispered, increasing her pace to a sprint. The air warped and twisted around her form, she was still disillusioned but Harry could see her rippling form as the air shifted around her. He followed, wishing to get to safety as soon as he could.

"Get down!" Ginny hissed as they rounded the corner of the seventh floor corridor. Argus Filch stood at the end of the corridor, muttering to himself.

"One of these days," he grumbled, clutching a prank catalogue in his hands, "I'm going to get myself a cat. We'll patrol the halls together, and by God, the kids won't track mud through the halls anymore. No, sir. Not if I get my cat."

"I think Filch has gone bloody barmy!" Ron whispered, and Harry imagined that if he could see his best friend's face, he would be glaring suspiciously at the cantankerous caretaker.

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished, and Harry could hear the strain in her voice to keep quiet, "What if Mrs Norris died in the battle? People said that the poor cat was the only thing he ever loved! It's no wonder he's a little bit sensitive!"

When Filch turned to face them though, he didn't look grief ridden at all, in fact, he looked cheerier than either of the four teenagers had ever seen him, except perhaps when Dolores Umbridge prowled the halls.

His hair was combed and cut: it no longer hung in the dirty strands of Harry's years at Hogwarts. Similarly, his beard- if the dusting of bristly grey hair crawling over his chin called be called a beard- was gone, replaced by a smooth, shaven chin. He even appeared to have less wrinkles and no longer hunched over as he stood.

"Bloody hell, Filch is definitely celebrating our victory! He's a changed man!"

Harry could only agree with Ron's assessment. He wouldn't have even recognised the man at a distance, had it not been for the mop and bucket he had by his side. It didn't prevent him from remaining an obstacle though.

"Can we stun him?" Ron asked, a little eagerly for Hermione's taste. Stunning Filch, or casting other jinxes upon him, had been a daydream of almost every Hogwarts student during Harry's time there. Hermione decided not to reprimand Ron, aware that she had harboured such thoughts on occasion. "Come on, It's one little word!"

When they turned back however, Filch was gone.

"Come on! Now's our chance!"

They ran towards the blank wall, and their need was so great, the door appeared immediately. They had made it to safety: No more spiders, alarms, or transformed caretakers.

* * *

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it from the memories that had flooded it. Her looked around the room trying to discern whether any of any of the others noticed his spacing out. They hadn't, Ron was still hugging Ginny, as both of them continued to cry, and Hermione was watching them with a sad expression on her face.

Somehow, he knew, that things were only going to get more confusing. His only wish was that it wouldn't cause them any more pain than the war already had.


	3. Chapter Two: Satisdation

**Chapter Two- Satisdation**

_**- provision of security -**_

* * *

**Metric- Black Sheep**

_Hello again,_

_Friend of a friend,_

_I knew you when_

_Our common goal_

_Was waiting for the world to end_

_Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend_

_You crack the whip, shape shift and trick the past again_

_I'll send you my love on a wire_

_Lift you up, everytime, everyone,_

_Pulls away,_

_From you_

* * *

They'd nearly convinced themselves they could stay there forever, or at least as long as they had to, when the first pangs of hunger sent them scrambling again. Hermione would not go to the kitchens for food with her invisibility charms and Ron had been complaining for hours before they finally remembered the passage to the Hogs Head. Hermione, luckily, had found some food in her bag from Bill and Fleur's but it was long gone by October and they were hungry for something else. Harry was rather embarrassed it had taken them so long but, then again, they'd been trying to forget the battle and everything that surrounded it.

The Room of Requirement was rather boring, actually, but once students had returned from summer break there was at least some chattering outside between them, talk of classes and exams and Quidditch, an ordinary year, not at all like Voldemort had been defeated just a few months before; to distract them. Hermione had pointed out, on more than one occasion, that none of the voices seemed familiar but they had to admit that some students that they knew may have just not come back after the war, getting jobs instead.

They were glad, at any rate, to have a chance to get out, even if they had to be 'very quiet' and keep to the crowds so they wouldn't be noticed. Hermione had been going on about polyjuice potion but they shut her up about that with the point that they'd have to go out into the school to get hairs. Ron also pointed out the cat hair incident and that had gone far enough because she started reaching for her wand before Ginny interrupted them to remind them that they still had to go to Hogsmeade and get food, unless they all wanted to starve.

That provided motivation enough and they found themselves in the passage with Harry leading and Ginny bringing up the rear. A sharp descent down a spiral staircase led them to a wooden bridge, spanning a chasm. Sunlight warmed the mahogany wood, giving it a richer, lighter texture. Each side of the chasm was dotted with evergreens, their bright leaves also enhanced by the sun's rays. A waterfall glinted and shone upon their right, the loud crashing off the water hitting the rocks miles below muffled to a pleasant gushing, spattering view was magnificent, and the air was cool upon their faces. It was just what they needed after days trapped in the Room of Requirement, even if it was merely an illusion. Ron found that out the hard way when he attempted to reach out of the window: his hand met stone with a loud thud and a surprised yelp. Fortunately, the only thing bruised was Ron's pride, aggravated by Ginny's mocking as they continued onwards.

Their destination wasn't nearly as nice; a dark, run down alley spanned along the back streets of Hogsmeade, full of rats and rubbish and cobwebs, much to Ron's distress. They came out behind an overflowing bin, stepping back to avoid the refuse. They all glanced around their dirty surroundings and Ron swore loudly.

"This was suppose to come out at the Hogs Head. Why aren't we at the Hogs Head? It may not have a good reputation, but anywhere's better than here."

Hermione sighed. "Ron, we don't want to be at the Hogs Head. How would you like explaining that we came out of nowhere? The Room of Requirement is being used for something else so of course the passage comes out somewhere else."

Harry was looking around the streets of Hogsmeade, watching eager students mill through the main square and the large array of businesses that surrounded it. "Will you two be quiet! There are students everywhere. Leave it to us to choose a Hogsmeade weekend."

"I did that on purpose," Hermione argued, "More students will allow us to blend in."

Ginny, momentarily forgotten, took that as a chance to slip into a passing group of Gryffindor girls about her age. She sent a meaningful glance at the threesome who were watching her in horror and began to strike up a conversation with the girl walking behind her.

"Oh no." Hermione let out a gasp. "They'll know she's not a Gryffindor in their year. I should have told you to stick with the other Houses. They wouldn't know one way or another." She let out an exasperated sigh and slid into step behind a Ravenclaw.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Do you think she's finally lost it? Of course Ginny's a Gryffindor in their year. Does she look like a Slytherin? Don't answer that," Ron shook his head.

Harry shrugged. "You think Neville, Seamus and Dean are around here somewhere?"

Ron didn't answer, pushing out into the crowd to make his way towards Honeydukes. Harry followed him, getting jostled by the crowd. They had almost made it when Harry was pulled short by a familiar hand. Hermione gestured for him to stay where he was and made a lunge for Ron. She spun them around and pushed them back towards the alley.

"Harry... um... I've just seen someone that you should... oh no!" She pushed them back, swinging around as a black-haired boy around their age made his way through the square, pushing away other students and chatting with a boy with shorter black hair and glasses. Two other boys trailed behind them, one of whom was eating a chocolate frog and talking with his mouth half open.

Hermione intercepted them, and Ron leaned over to whisper to Harry. "Hey, that one looks like you. Maybe it is... but then who are you with?"

Harry shrugged and held a finger up to his lips to shush him, trying to hear what Hermione was saying.

Hermione was interrupted once again by the other Weasley: Ginny ran into the alleyway, pale and slightly shaky.

"Guys, look at this." She cried, her hand clutching the Prophet wavering in her shock.

"What?" Ron asked, his brow furrowing, "Who cares if Bowtruckle populations are decreasing? Besides, its not really worthy of a front page is it? The Daily Prophet has really gone downhill recently."

"No, Idiot. Look at the date."

"The first of October. What's so special about tha- Oh god, it's 1976."

"What?" Harry stated, his voice shaking slightly, revealing the intense emotions coursing through him. He snatched the paper out of Ron's unresisting hands and stared blankly at the date.

It read October first, 1976.

Harry rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing straight, and pinched himself to confirm he wasn't dreaming.

The date remained October first, 1976.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cursed, staring at the paper over Harry's shoulder.

"You've got that one right, mate."

Silence.

Then Harry spun on his heel to face them, a slightly manic expression on his face.

"Don't you see? We can save them. My Dad, he's right there, I can tell him and everything will be fine!"

Ginny and Hermione grabbed his wrists at once, yanking him back. "Can't you see," Hermione hissed, "you look just like him. There's no way he'll believe you but he'll think you're an imposter or using polyjuice potion or... no!"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, that's my Dad. I could save him! I could save our future. Don't you see them? It's my Dad, Remus, Sirius, and that little traitor, Pettigrew. That could by my future. With them. If only I could tell them!"

"No! You will not, Harry. You can't change the past, if you did... for all we know, you might not even be born. Anything can happen if you tamper in the past. It's dangerous. No. We need to get back to our time."

Harry reached for his wand without thinking, holding it out towards Hermione. Ginny reached for Harry, tugging at his wand hand. "Look, she's right. Just... just calm down. Okay? We'll... I swear, we'll find a way to save them just... we can't argue amongst ourselves. We can't curse each other or anything."

"No! I need to find them. I need to find my Mum and be with them all and tell them. And save them! They're dead, Ginny!" He gestured at them. "Gone. They'll never be back. What's the worst I can do? They're already dead."

"Mate, calm down. Look... this is their year. You can't just..." Ron struggled to find words.

"Why can't I? My seventh year was ruined. Theirs will be saved."

Hermione stretched out her hand and moved Harry's wand away from her. "Look, let's get inside the pub. We'll talk about it there, yeah? We'll get drinks, it'll be nice." She gave a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh that rang around the alleyway.

Harry sighed. "Sorry, Hermione, I didn't mean to scare you. But they're my parents! I need to save them, you don't understand what it's like, none of you do! Let's get inside and talk about it, but if you haven't got a good explanation, I'm going to tell them anyway."

With that, he pushed himself away from the wall and headed in the direction of the Hogs Head, his strides long and tense. With a worried glance between them, his three friends followed.

The Hogs Head was slightly less run down than in their own time, but even less people frequented the establishment, preferring the newly opened attraction, The Three Broomsticks. The tables were new, yet each held a tablecloth of dust and dirt. Evidently, they had not entertained customers in some time. The floorboards were of an indiscernible shade of grey, and the glasses lining the bar were ripe with spittle, grime and a substance that looked suspiciously like dried blood. The left side of the main room, where the toilets were located, reeked of urine, sweat and alcohol, so when they entered, the time travellers took seats furthest from the latrines. Ginny swore that she saw a cockroach crawling across from shadow to shadow, its progress lit only by abstract patterns formed by the cool autumn light spilling through the dirt encrusted windows.

Harry ignored all this and looked straight at Hermione. "Talk!"

Hermione sighed, but nodded from her seat directly across from him. "Third year when I had the time turner, what did I'll tell you could happen if anyone saw us?"

Harry frowned, thinking back to that time in his life. So much had been going on then that whatever she had told him had slipped from his mind and wasn't coming to him now.

Hermione shook her head, exasperated, and muttered under her breath, "Boys!" She looked back at Harry, "I said that if anyone saw us there was a very good chance that we could end up changing the future, and not necessarily for the better."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione held up her hand to stop him.

"If you went and told your father that you were his son, from the future, and that he had to do certain things so that he wouldn't die. Let's say that for one moment he believes you. What if your telling him causes him to do something that ends up killing him sooner, then he would never marry Lily and you would never be born. There are too many ways that the future could be changed into something worse than it was before we came here. What if Voldemort won because we changed everything?" She shook her head, "No, it's far too risky."

Ginny looked up from the newspaper which she'd spread over the table in front of her. "Done already? Okay then, we should get some food and get back. Ron!"

Ron, who had been looking out the window, turned back to them with a worried expression on his face. "Errr... we might not have been the only ones to get blasted back."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione snapped, "we were the only ones in the Forest."

"Then explain how she's here." He pointed out the window to a dark haired girl in Slytherin green standing out in the square and talking to a Slytherin with lighter hair. "How in Merlin's name did Pansy Parkinson get blasted back here, too?"

The girl turned around at just that moment and looked in the dirty windows of the pub to see Ron staring at her. She frowned and waved, the window blocking out the red of his robes. Ginny snickered, "Didn't know Pansy had a thing for you, Ronald."

"She doesn't, Ginny, and you would know that if your face wasn't pressed up against some random guy's all the time. Sorry, mate." He glanced back at Harry and then stared out at the girl.

Hermione made a small noise. "Ron, she obviously thinks you like her because you're staring right at her. Not to mention how creepy that would seem, she's also Pansy Parkinson. The girl that tried to turn in Harry."

"No hard feelings or anything," Harry mumbled, staring over Ginny's shoulder at the newspaper. "If it's Parkinson, how did she get here?"

"Well, it was the Slytherin Hourglass. Maybe it had to get a Slytherin, too," Ron suggested.

Ginny shook her head. "No, Pansy was one of the Slytherins that fled. They passed me in the halls on their way to the Room of Requirement."

Ron shrugged. "Then how do you explain that." He pointed to the girl who was starting towards the pub.

"Whatever it is, we should avoid it."

"Quick through the window!" Ron said, suddenly desperate to escape. Hermione sighed, but nodded her head. It was better than potentially changing something key to their future.

The door to the pub opened, revealing the two Slytherin girls. The pug nosed girl that had attracted Ron's attention searched around the room, recoiling slightly at the stench radiating from her left. She glanced hopefully towards the chair where Ron was sitting, her face falling when she realised that he was gone. Glancing around once again, she crept over to the table and took Ron's glass, drinking from the same side that he had used. She shivered slightly in twisted pleasure, before tucking the glass within her robes and placing a single galleon upon the table to pay for it. Then, her eyes shining in delight, her hand shot out and plucked a scarf from the chair. She giggled in a high pitched, slightly nasal whine.

A muffled curse and a thud came from the direction of the window.

The girl's head swivelled round at the noise; she clutched the scarf to her breast and adopted a slight sneer.

Her friend turned to her, from where she had been waiting at the bar. It seemed as if nobody even worked there.

"Oh, Elisabeth...not again!"

"I don't care what you think! This one actually likes me. I know it!" The girl, Elisabeth, said, "He's perfect in every way! Those luscious ginger locks, those dreamy blue eyes and that smile of his..."

"You said the same thing about that Malfoy boy back in second year and even though he was way too old for you, there was nothing I could do. And now this one."

Ron let out an indignant noise at being compared to Lucius Malfoy.

"But he's a seventh year, too. And I was only twelve, it's not my fault that he seemed perfect then. I've wised up. And this boy..." Elisabeth smiled. "He's the one."

"What about your current boyfriend?"

"What about him? He's just filling the place. Don't worry, I'll let him down easy."

"Why would I care?"

Elisabeth shrugged, running her fingers along the wood of the table.

Ron stayed crouched under the window of the pub but the other three straightened up. Hermione looked in the window of the pub and shook her head. "Don't you get lucky with the girls, Ron? First Lav-Lav and now this girl."

Ginny snorted. "Wittle Won-Won with a Slytherin from the past. Oh, they're perfect together."

"Stop them, Harry," Ron pleaded, crawling after his friends. "Please, while I still have some dignity."

"You'd keep your dignity if you'd just stand up."

"She's still looking for me..." Ron shook his head. "I won't risk it."

He continued to crawl until they reached the relative safety of a nearby alleyway, where he stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees.

"I agree with Hermione. We shouldn't change anything in the past. We should hide away and have as little contact with this time as possible."

"You're only saying that, boy, because you're terrified of that girl." Said a mysteriously familiar voice behind them.

As one, they whirled around to see Aberforth Dumbledore, proprietor of the Hogs Head. His beard was a little shorter, his robes a little more fancy. It was unmistakably him though.

"How about you four come with me? I have some information that may prove beneficial to you."

Aberforth led them further into the alleyway and presented them with a grubby leaflet.

"Go there, stay there, don't change anything. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Good. Oh, and don't do anything completely moronic. Portus!"

Before Harry had a chance to agree, tell Aberforth that he knew how to apparate or even explain how much he hated portkey travel, he was whisked away, the world whirling and flying around him until he felt sick.

When he landed, he felt steady: he could feel the ground rock solid beneath his feet, he felt the grass brushing against the edge of his trousers, and he felt connected with the world. Too connected. He toppled over onto his back, still unable to control his Portkey travel, much to his chagrin.

"Ouch." He said, to fill the silence that had descended upon them. "Where are we?"

They had landed upon a small, rocky path that led up to a wrought iron gate, Victorian in design. It was battling rust bravely, but Harry could see flashes of brown and orange marring the expanse of sable. The gate was attached to a hardy brick wall, several inches thick. There was a large garden, mostly grass, enclosed within the walls. Harry could see an orchard and an orangery against the farthest wall. It had to be a magical property: England did not have the weather to support the growth of oranges. The centrepiece of the estate was a large manor house, tudor in design but with modern improvements. A large gravel walkway, enclosed by hedges and exotic plants, paved the way from the gate to the manor. It was an impressive sight to behold.

The group exchanged glances, and Hermione looked down at leaflet that they received from Aberforth. "This is the place on the flier, its a boarding school for magic. I've read about them: they're alternatives to Hogwarts, ran by the parents of the children who attend. Aberforth has the right idea: we don't have parents in this time, but they should take us without too many questions. Harry, you could be a student sent from Australia, how about that? I can keep my status as a muggleborn, and say that my parents didn't agree with magic so I ran away. I don't know what to do about you two though." She looked at Ron and GInny, who were deep in thought.

"We can't exactly hide that we're Weasleys, but we do have an estranged cousin. He's a muggle accountant, boring like Percy, but he's a wizard. I don't understand it, he has magic, but he works with muggles, as a muggle."

"Maybe," Ginny said, in reply to Ron, "He thought that he could get more money in the muggle world? He is pretty rich, remember his house?"

"Yeah, all those paintings and stuffed animals. He was a nutter, that one!"

Hermione pulled out a slightly creased notebook and a worn quill.

"Ok, so you guys can probably keep your names, it's not like we're going to come into contact with your family is it? Harry, we should change your name to Porter: Potter is an influential family over here with a lot of power; your resemblance to your Dad might be pulled into question. Being 'Australian' would make you harder to track, the Australian ministry aren't likely to divulge information to our ministry, even if Professor Dumbledore asks them. I can probably keep my name too: Granger is a common name."

She started to write their names and fake backstories within the notebook, her neat script slightly skewed by the old quill.

"This is for reference: we don't want to get caught out. Our lie needs to be as convincing as possible."

Ron grinned.

"Do you remember in first year, when she was so uptight about the rules? We've corrupted her."

"Not enough." Harry said, his eyes downcast. "She won't break the most important rule of all."

Hermione glanced guiltily at Ginny over the top of Harry's head, before straightening determinedly.

"It's for the best. Bad things happen to wizards who mess with time."

"Come on, let's get this over with," said Ginny, turning to face the school, cutting off Harry before he could retort.

Ron nodded, "Let's."

They made their way towards the entrance of the school. There was an old fashioned doorbell ringer by the front doors. After a mere moment of hesitation Ron shrugged his shoulders and pulled it.


	4. Chapter Three: Sedition

**Chapter Three- Sedition**

_**- incitement of public disorder or rebellion -**_

* * *

**Metric- Empty**

There was no way out, the only way out was to give in

There was no way out, the only way out was to give in

How I love to give in

Here no one sleeps, one lays up while the other lies down

Where no one sleeps, one lays up while the other lies down

Ask the line on your face what the line on your hand meant

We couldn't see what was coming

* * *

The Headmaster of the Paracelsus Academy of Magic, was an elderly fellow. No where near as old as Dumbledore, but old enough that his hair was starting to grey. In the few short moments that time travelers had known him, he seemed to be perpetually tired. It seemed that he was quite used to students turning up in the middle of the school year and asking to be admitted.

"So what are your names again?" he asked them for the third time since their arrival.

Harry shared a look with his friends. "I'm Harry Porter, this is Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Ginny Weasley." He indicated each of them in turn.

"Ah, right then," said the Headmaster looking down at some paper on his desk, before writing something down. "And why are you here?"

"We are here because we have no where else to go, an old friend told us of this place, and sent us here," explained Ginny, frowning.

"Good, good, good..." he said absently, He continued to scribble away on a piece of parchment. He looked up at them. "Welcome to Paracelsus Academy of Magic, Mr. Porter, Miss Granger, and Miss Weasley and Mr. Weasley.

For Harry, it felt strange being called Porter, instead of Potter. It felt as if whoever was saying his last name had merely pronounced it wrong: He had to constantly fight the urge to correct the headmaster.

While the aged headmaster started to go through the rules at the academy, Harry allowed his mind to wander, confident that while she would complain about it, Hermione would fill him in later.

The office they resided in was classy: The walls were lined with wood panelling, a rich brown that offset the luxurious red carpet, thick beneath his shoes. They sat on one side of a large desk, made of the same wood as the walls, that featured as a centerpiece. Various trinkets littered the desk: a globe of the world, intricately carved of wood and garnished with gold leaf to form the countries, an ashtray and an expensive packet of cigars, and a photo frame holding what Harry assumed was somebody important to the headmaster, although it was facing away from him so he couldn't tell who. Five portraits were attached to the back wall, although they didn't move. Harry assumed that the academy couldn't fund such frivolities, even for the past headmasters, who were the most deserving of such an honour. A muggle shotgun hung from a plaque over the door, holding two swords in place. They looked realistic, but Harry doubted that they worked. The left and right walls were used as bookcases, and were completely filled with leather bound volumes, some cracked with age. In between two armchairs sat a table, with a muggle radio upon it. Harry assumed that technology worked in the Academy, as the wards weren't strong enough to interfere. The weakness of the wards also worried him slightly, although he shrugged it off. It was unlikely that Aberforth would send them to an unsafe location, especially when he somehow knew their secret. Harry decided to send the old man a letter, inquiring how he had known to send them off to the strange school. He had appeared at exactly the right time to overhear them: Harry suspected that he had been there all along, under a disillusionment charm.

The Headmaster's rasping cough- most likely a result of the cigars- brought Harry's attention away from surveying the room, and instead to the man sitting opposite them.

"The Paracelsus Academy of Magic is not as prestigious as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but we offer far more subjects. We want to help students specialise in a particular field, rather than become substantially less skilled in a broader range of subjects. We don't want any of our charges to become a Jack of all trades, instead we wish them to be the best they can at a certain branch of magic."

He shifted his eyes nervously, before reaching around and shuffling some papers upon his desk.

"We also allow students who are infected with lycanthropy to attend, as Hogwarts is undergoing a trial period with one werewolf. I hope it goes well and Hogwarts can start opening its doors for the afflicted: they are quite a handful, let me tell you."

Harry paused. He didn't know anything about the Paracelsus Academy in his time, or about Werewolves attending a magical school at all. He supposed that the ministry had shut the place down, especially with the anti-werewolf laws that were imposed upon Cornelius Fudge's entrance into office. He felt a little sorry for the innocent werewolves in his time: the Paracelsus Academy had a good agenda, and they were helping to integrate the wolves within society. If it had been shut down, the afflicted who would have functioned well in wizarding society were driven straight into the arms of Fenrir Greyback and his insane ideology.

"We're fine with it, sir." Harry replied with a smile, "One of my Dad's best friends was a werewolf."

He received a sharp kick to the shin and a warning glare from Hermione for his mistake.

The headmaster looked intrigued.

"One of your Father's best friends 'was' a werewolf? What happened to him?"

Ignoring Hermione's sharp hiss, Harry improvised.

"Well sir, I believe that I told you I'm an Australian? My parents were English, but they moved to Australia in the months before I was born. I grew up pretty isolated, so I kept the English accent. My parents, when they heard of You Know Who's growing power, decided to come over and fight. They were very patriotic. They brought me with them, as well as their best friend. My parents and my dad's best friend went off to fight: they never came back. It's been weeks, and I have to assume that they perished."

Harry allowed the tight dam containing his emotions about his parents to crumble slightly, allowing the grief and anger to seep into his voice.

"I was alone, and I didn't have anywhere else to go, so I came here. I met up with these three on the train ride over. It feels like I've known them for longer though, years even."

Another kick, this one harder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny trying to hide a giggle, turning it into an awkward cough halfway through. Hermione was glaring daggers at her three peers.

The Headmaster looked saddened, but Harry realised that he didn't completely buy their story yet. Mustering up his pride, and throwing away any delusions of dignity, he allowed the torrent of emotions to consume him.

Instead of fighting off the tears, he allowed them to fall freely, Surprisingly, it was easy to cry: the stress of the war had brought out complex emotions that he had previously refused to deal with.

The headmaster sighed sadly, and moved over to the window. He was a kindly man, although he often tried to hide it behind a pseudo cool facade. In recent times, the facade was becoming easier to use. The pain of the war became less when he remained distant, but he could not do it any longer. The young, grief ridden man had confided in him, and he felt obligated to do the same.

"This damnable war has claimed the lives of far too many, my boy. My Granddaughter, the picture of her on the desk there, she was killed in a Death Eater initiation ceremony. Sometimes, in my weaker moments, I wish that it had been somebody else. She didn't deserve to be killed, she was innocent. I can't do anything about it though. She's gone. Forever."

He rested his head against the closed window, his shoulders set in sadness, although he hummed with a spark of anger.

"I spoke to the ministry, of course. I asked them to do something, track down the murderers that killed my Granddaughter. When the aurors said that they needed permission, I tracked down the higher ups. I cornered them in a tiny little room, showed them a picture of my granddaughter and told them what horrible things had been done to her."

The head turned to face them, and his eyes burned with rage.

"All the smooth talkers and the politicians trapped in a room with a dead girl: all of a sudden, none of them can think of a single word to say."

Silence fell, a contemplative silence where all the inhabitants thought of those they had lost to the same war, even if they were separated by just over a decade. They were both fought for the same reasons, a madman's bigoted campaign of hate, and innocents died for nothing in both wars.

"I'm sorry, Sir, about your Granddaughter."

Harry knew that Ginny wanted to add more, but it would have felt so empty. They knew that the war would stretch on for another five years, and to console the broken headmaster that "It will all get better." would only make them feel worse. More innocents like the Headmaster's Granddaughter would die, and they would be powerless to stop them. It was one more point in favour of changing the future: their action so early in the war would save thousands of lives, not just his parents'.

"It's all right," The man said, although everyone in the room could tell that he wasn't quite as well as he would have liked them to believe. "I'm sure that you would all like to get some rest: you've had long journeys, and an equally arduous conversation with me. Boys, your dormitory is to the left: it is very easy to find. Girls, I have taken the liberty of calling up a member of the kitchen staff, Nia, to assist you with locating your lodgings. The girls dormitory is on the other side of the manor, and may take some time to get to."

With that, he turned away from them: a clear dismissal. As the four friends left the room, a quick glance backwards revealed the back of the headmaster sitting in his chair, a curl of smoke floating lazily towards the ceiling.

Nia was nice enough, Hermione thought, as they made their way towards the girls dormitory. She was slightly airy, in a way that spoke of possessing little intelligence, as opposed to someone like Luna Lovegood, who was airy and dreamy as a way to hide from the taunts of her classmates and the ills of the world. She wore a traditional victorian servants attire: a black dress underneath a white apron. Her white gloves were slightly stained, and her shoes were dotted with hints of dirt.

"Here's your room, misses. I'll be just down the hall in the servants quarters if you need me." She told them, in a soft, slightly lilting welsh accent.

"Thank you, Nia," said Ginny, kindly. "What do you do here?"

"I work here, miss," said Nia looking at Ginny confusedly as though she wasn't used to someone asking her questions about herself. "I clean up after the students. I help with the cooking. There is much for me to do here, miss."

Ginny frowned, her brow creasing, "But why? Surely you would be here to learn with the rest of the students."

Nia looked down at the ground feeling very ashamed of herself.

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth realizing what she had said. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate...or..." She had no idea what to say.

"It's alright miss," said Nia still looking at the floor, "I'm used to it miss."

Hermione decided to change the topic of conversation. "Where is the library?"

Nia turned to Hermione, seeming relieved at the change, "We don't have a library miss. All books are kept in the classrooms miss."

Hermione froze. No library! Suddenly this school did not sound like such a good idea after all. It was an atrocity, how could a school not have a library, it went against...well, everything. No school was supposed to be without a library. Slowly unfreezing she glared at Nia as though it was her fault. She opened and closed her mouth several times, before eventually huffing and storming into the room.

Ginny looked apologetically at Nia, who had a hurt expression on her face. "Don't worry about it, she is always like that when it comes to books. She has been so long without something new to read, I think that she might be going stir crazy over it." With that Ginny slipped into the room to try and calm Hermione down.

* * *

The headmaster had not been lying when he told them that the boys dormitory was not difficult to find. A sharp left and a flight of stairs later, and they had found the room. In the darkness of midnight the room seemed to press upon them, the shadows dancing upon the walls like bad caricatures of their hosts. The room was on the top story, there was a large distance between the ground and their lodgings. Two large windows lay against the far wall, offering a view of the garden and the nearby mountains. Harry was sure that when the sun crept above the horizon, it would be a magnificent sight. In the dark of night however, the garden held a strangely sinister quality. The mountains, darker than the night sky itself, seemed to loom forwards like vultures, looming over their prey and waiting to feed. The stars in the sky remained bright, and as they twinkled and shone, Harry sighed. They would remain there, forever, unchanging. Some could draw comfort from the celestial, but not Harry. He thought it unfair, that such beauty dominated the sky, yet the earth was ravaged by death, disease and horrors. The stars sparkled, and Harry could only turn away, not wishing to be mocked by their incorrigible nature.

A boy lay slumped in one of the three beds that lay scattered around the room. One arm was flung out across his chest and the other hung limp at his side. Harry and Ron edged by him, carefully, and sat down on their beds which were so close that their legs touched in the gap between the two. A key turned in the lock and a voice drifted, softly, through the door.

"Will, we're locking up for the night. All wands on the shelf."

A second voice followed, a little ways further down the hall. "He's probably sleeping. Come on." The footsteps wandered away, quietly.

"Locked doors. Wands on... a shelf?" Ron lay back on his bed. "What are we getting into?"

Harry glanced up at a shelf that stuck out beside the door. A wand already lay there, presumably the boy, Will's. He collected Ron's wand as well as his own and reluctantly put their wands up on the shelf for the night.

"Hell!" came a harsh and dry voice from the bed.

Ron and Harry jumped and looked back at the bed. The boy was apparently awake, he had sat up and was watching them with a weary eye.

"What?"

"This school, it's hell," said Will. "Who are you?"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "I'm Harry Po-Porter," he stuttered, stumbling over his new name. He attempted to cover it up quickly, hoping that the other boy wouldn't notice. "And this is Ron Weasley."

"Will," replied the other boy simply, still eyeing them wearily. After a few awkward moments, he turned away from them and laid back down on the bed.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, before getting into their own beds.

* * *

"Ginny? Oh Ginny? I'm coming to find you!"

The sing song voice, sounding so wrong and foreign in his mouth made her cringe.

She was on her hands and knees in the burrow garden, the grass dancing daintily around her ankles. She was young again, a first year. She had experienced this dream before.

"Ginny? Are you even playing? Where are you, Ginny?"

She lay in the field, the grass tickling her nose and brushing against her cheeks. He would never find her there, the grass was far too thick.

"Ready or not, here I come! I'm coming to find you!"

Her quill snapped, leaking a strange red ink down her arm. She licked across her pale skin, smearing the red across her mouth. It was strange, it almost tasted like-

"Ginny? It isn't funny anymore. Come out, I want to play!"

She didn't want to play anything else though: she was happiest hiding from him. He made her shiver, in twisted pleasure and abhorrent disgust.

"Ginny? Here I come!"

The ivory white pages were beautiful in the summer sun, the smell of strawberries assaulted her senses. She had stopped eating them, the colour always reminded her of-

Ten.

The grass seemed to swirl in a momentary wind, but it was soon forgotten. He would never find her!

Nine.

Was it just her, or was the sun darkening slightly? No, it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, she was sure.

Eight.

It was strange, how quickly the warmth had turned to cold. It almost seemed like magic.

Seven.

There went Mr Teddopolus, her prized companion, shattering into stuffing and broken stitching. How would she manage without him? It almost seemed like a twisted symbolism for-

Six.

Her hands clutched the pure white pages, untarnished by age. It was her favourite and he wouldn't take it from her.

Five.

"Not long now, Ginny! I'm coming to find you!"

Four.

The grass was definitely shifting under an intense wind, she wondered what was causing it?

Three.

What was that off in the distance? It almost seemed like-

Two.

It was uncomfortably hot, the strange orange light that had descended upon the world carrying stories of faraway lands.

One.

She stood, the book clutched within her grasp. He would not take it from her.

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny. Are you ready for me? Here I come!"

She ran through the thick grass, the sheer length of it slowing her to half her speed. He was taller than her, and he had long legs, spider like, that navigated the terrain with ease. He would catch up with her, there was no doubt in her mind.

"I think you've got something of mine! Give it back!"

"No!" She cried, but it sounded weak in her ears.

A small root was her downfall, an obstacle easily cleared, but she had caught herself upon it, and lay there, helpless, strung up by her ankle to the lone tree, surrounded by wheat, and wild grass.

The book fell to the floor, and with a sob, her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the front cover.

The Diary of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"I think somebody has been very naughty. Tut, tut, tut. What would your mother say? Hm? You haven't got an answer for me? Very well, another question. Do you think the twins would be impressed? They were very mischievous, very naughty, just like you, Ginny. Speaking of the twins, how are Fred and George? Are they well? Healthy? Living life to the fullest?"

He leaned down to her tearstained face, twisted in agony.

"Oops. Too soon?"

He caressed her face.

"Oh, don't cry, my dear! What hurts you, hurts me. Because you complete me! I am you, and you are me. Without you, I cannot live. Without me, you truly wouldn't be you."

His handsome face was split into a sickening grin.

"Everybody has a darker side, Ginevra Molly Weasley. Everyone has that evil little secret they can't even tell their loved ones. I am both, am I not? No one will ever know that part of me, resides in you, even after the diary was destroyed. I'm not a moron, I had a backup plan."

"Why, am I only seeing you now? Why can you talk to me?"

"The temporal shift gave me energy, of course. It was my magic after all. Do you want to know how I did it?"

Ginny shook her head sharply, indicating that she did not want to hear it. She wanted to wake up. Frowning, Tom Riddle, for that was who he was, gripped her head roughly in his hands, and forced her to nod in acceptance.

"You do? Oh, that's good. Ok, here we go."

He straightened up and picked up his diary, as if he was reading from the blank pages.

"I was a very clever boy when I was at school, I was the best student there. All the teachers loved me, except for the muggle loving coot, Dumbledore. Fortunately, on the Christmas break of 1945, he was having a bit of a lovers spat with Grindlewald. While he was gone, because he watched me ever so carefully at school, I had free reign of the castle: I was head boy, I could do anything! Do you want to know what I did? Yes, you do."

He once again made her nod, her protest becoming weaker and weaker.

"I realised that the most magical part of a time turner was the hourglass in my fifth year; I used Abraxas Malfoys' connections to get a rare book on time turner creation: the moron thought that I was using it to do more activities in a day without ministry approval. No, I was preparing a plan. When I was free to tamper with the hourglass, it was a simple matter of casting the spell once every hour, for a week."

He frowned, releasing her.

"The plan was to go back in time and start my reign of terror again once I was powerful enough: of course, Potter put a stop to that, twice! The second time, he killed me! Oh, the injustice! Fortunately, my death powered the oversized time turner, latched on to the nearest bit of Voldemort it could find, which was me as it turns out, and dragged you along. It's a pity that I hadn't accounted for Potter and his traitor friends to be standing so close."

"So it's your fault we're in the past?"

"Yes. I can't get you back either. It's a one way trip. Besides, I like it here, in this time. You wouldn't want to time travel again anyway: I'll get even more powerful. Who knows, I could even control your body for short periods of time. I bet you've missed that."

A dull rumble echoed around the field.

"Knock knock, I think trouble's brewing. It's time to wake up, buttercup!"

* * *

Ginny swore under her breath and lay her head on the table. Ron shoved eggs into his mouth and went on about a Quidditch save at the same time while Harry nodded and cringed at his open mouth. Hermione put down her paper, frustrated. "I can't believe they don't have a library here in this school! Now I'm reliant on the Prophet for something to read and we all know that everyone who writes for it is a lying, good-for-nothing-"

Ron frowned at that. "I think I might have an aunt who wrote for the Prophet. Maybe she's a good friend of Rita Skeeter. I should ask her... Isn't Aunt Brenda a reporter, Gin?"

Ginny shrugged, made a small noise and closed her eyes.

Harry watched her, curiously. "Something wrong?"

"No..."

Hermione ignored them all. "I mean, really. How are we supposed to learn anything here if we can't even read any books of our own choosing. And what about essays? I mean, how do they expect us to write any decent essays?"

"Hermione, will you shut up!"

A few students around them cringed and hurriedly looked away at Ron's words, trying to pretend they weren't listening in.

"I was just saying, Ronald..."

"Will you two be quiet!" Ginny's eyes snapped open and she shot up. "Hermione, I swear, if I have to hear another word of your little-goody-two-shoes ranting about how 'oh, no, professor, my essay won't be nearly good enough because there's NOT A DAMN LIBRARY' and your little hissy fits about things that don't bloody matter. You ever wonder why you didn't have any friends before Harry and my idiot of a brother? And Ronnie... the little loyal prefect. You're no better than any of your other brothers because you never did anything of use! Never. They've fought in wars too, you know! They've died in wars! No one cares about you because who are you compared to them? Who the bloody hell are you? Just loyal. Maybe you should have been a bloody Hufflepuff and prance around being friendly and perfect and not worth a goddamn thing!"

They were speechless and Harry slid his chair back to avoid being next.

"Oh... I'm not done yet." Ginny growled, pushing herself up to full height and glowering down at them. "Because everyone knows that you two love each other. Even if you fight and scream and you're not fooling anyone. Not a single bloody person. So cut it with your stupid little act of not being able to stand each other. You're gonna get married and have kids and be like everyone other person in this family. Be happily married with your 'soulmate' and have perfect little family reunions and be lost in the crowd. Have fun with that! After all, you're perfect for it. The goody-little-two-shoes and the boy-who'll-never-be-remembered. Have fun in your perfect little life. Oh, if we ever get there." She slammed her palm against the table and they jumped. She pulled out her wand and muttered a spell under her breath before stomping off.

Harry watched in a stunned disbelief as bat bogies exploded from Ron's and Hermione's noses. He sighed and looked down at his plate, suddenly the food wasn't so appetizing anymore.

Nia stopped Ginny at the door. "Please, Miss...Ginny, calm down."

"Why should you tell me what to do? You're no better than a bloody house elf!"

She shoved past the girl and stomped out, familiar, ghostly cackling ringing in her ears.

"You don't even need my help to be evil."

"Oh, shut the bloody hell up."

* * *

That night Ginny sat on her bed staring at her empty hands, her thoughts blank, a long tear sliding down her left cheek. She had been there since classes had ended earlier that day. She hadn't even attended dinner.

She didn't look up when she heard the doors open, and someone come into the room. She knew it was Hermione...or at least that's who she thought it was.

The person coughed quietly, and Ginny's head shot up to face the newcomer. "Oh, it's you, Nia."

Nia looked really nervous about being there, she kept fidgeting and switching the plate of food she was carrying between hands. "I'm so sorry, Miss."

Ginny frowned, trying to think what Nia would be apologising for. Before anything came to mind, Hermione came into room, she cast a glare at Nia- who was already fidgeting twice as much from the sight of Ginny's frown- and went over to her bed.

Sighing, Ginny decided to change the subject, "What is the food for?"

Nia jumped, and looked at the plate in her hand as if just remembering that she was holding it. "Oh, sorry, miss. I forgot. This is-"

There was a flash of green light and Nia fell to the ground dead. Her sentence would remain forever unfinished.

* * *

Harry and Ron were discussing mentality of girls, unaware of the chaos spreading throughout the rest of the school. They were interrupted by their roommate who was already asleep, waking up and screaming in agony.

They turned to face, just in time to see him twisting and writhing in agony. His body was distorting itself. His back arched up and seemed to mold itself into another shape. His face started to stretch out and turn more angular. His hands and feet turned swiftly into claws. Fur started to sprout out all over his skin, completely covering him. The bristly, grey hair was bathed in moonlight, making it seem to shine with an ethereal glow. Finally a tail grew out of his backside. A low growl rumbled out of the beast's throat. Harry and Ron stood side by side, facing a ferocious and ravenous werewolf.

Ron glanced between his empty hands and the shelf that held all three of their wands. "Bloody hell... it's just our luck to be locked inside a dorm with a werewolf on the full moon, with it between us and our wands."


	5. Chapter Four: Sejunction

_A/N: We'd like to make a few points for reference. To begin with, we have changed the rating to M because of dark themes in this chapter that will probably continue throughout the story. I hope that doesn't turn any of our readers off. It's mostly a precaution but it is M so read at your own risk. Secondly, we would like to point out what should be all of your new OTPs: WillxDeath fluff. Because it's just that amusing to write. I'm not even sure how we got that... it had something to do with yelling 'angst' and then realizing we didn't care about Will so we decided to make it fluffy. **  
**~ Locket_

* * *

**Chapter Four- Sejunction**

**- separation, disjunction-**

* * *

**Metric- Synthetica**

_Hey, I'm not synthetica_

_I'll keep the life that I've got_

_So hard, hard to resist_

_Synthetica_

_No drug is stronger than me_

_Synthetica_

_We're all the time confined to fit the mold_

_But I won't ever let them make a loser of my soul_

_Ahhh_

_Hey, I'm not synthetica_

_I'll keep the life that I've got..._

* * *

Ginny did not have much time to process Nia's death: the room was cut in half by an incendiary curse, the conjured fire eating away at everything in the room. She reached for her wand, but before she could grab she had to jump out of the as spellfire was coming her way.

Hermione had her wand out and was firing spells off at the people in black robes who had been invading the school.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted, "Duck!"

Hermione ducked, just in time for a spell to go over her head and straight at Ginny.

Ginny fell backwards attempting to get out of the way of the of the curse. She ended up tumbling over her bed and into the wall.

Hermione had dropped her wand when she had ducked. As she had no time to grab it as more people came into the room, so she snatched up the only other wand in the room. "Accio wand." Her wand flew into her but, not before a spell blasted the wand that she was holding out of her hand and into the the wall on the other side of Ginny's bed.

She snatched her wand and turned towards her attackers.

* * *

Before Ron and Harry had the chance to do anything the Werewolf pounced at them. They dived out of the way, causing the monster to go headfirst into the wall. The wolf howled angrily, and turned around back toward the two boys.

"Damn it, Harry. How are we going to get our wands?"

"You distract him, I'll go for the wands then."

The wolf snarled as a lamp smashed against its face, the shards of glass cutting its face, and the material of the lampshade blinding it momentarily. It staggered, stumbling into the back wall. Ron gulped as the plaster splintered and cracked under the werewolf's weight.

"I think he's pissed." He tried to joke, dodging another swipe from the enraged beast.

"You think he's pissed. No shit, Sherlock." Harry sniped back, edging towards the shelf where their wands were kept. A kick from Ron sent William hurtling into the wand shelf: wolf, wands, and wood lay intermingled in a pile, unmoving.

"Do you reckon that's it?" Ron asked, panting for breath, "Maybe we got lucky and Will knocked himself out."

Harry reached out to grasp the handle of his wand, yanking it back when the werewolf snarled and leapt forward in an explosion of debris.

Harry was pinned, the pressure of William's wolf form crushing his legs into the floor. He could feel the wooden floorboards creaking under their combined weight. The werewolf reared back, prepared to strike, his hot, putrid breath spilling out onto him.

"Get away from him, you bastard!"

Ron charged, the unconventional battle cry doing nothing to deter the creature's attack. Just before the wolf's sharp fangs ripped into Harry's neck, Ron slammed into William, the momentum carrying both the boy and the beast out of the large bay window overlooking the grounds.

Dazed and confused, Harry climbed to his feet and sprinted over to the ledge, seeing Ron lying atop William: neither was moving.

He feared the worst.

A crash from behind him forced him to dive for cover, pulling himself into the moment. Nothing mattered but him and his opponent. When Harry saw who it was however, he couldn't help but feel that his eyes were deceiving him.

What the hell was Lucius Malfoy doing there?

* * *

Ginny scrambled to her feet and glanced around in the musty basement, feeling rather disoriented. She knew she'd hit her head and didn't have her wand but how she got there and the falling was rather blurry. It was dark in the room and she ran her fingers along the wall until she found a switch. The light bulb above flickered twice and stayed on, casting a weird glow around the small chamber.

She glanced around the room. Two exits, one obviously created when she had entered the room: splinters of wood littered the area, clearly part of the service lift that had once carried supplies between the basement, the kitchen and the girls dormitory. She would need to find another service lift- a working one- to get up to the boys dormitory. She needed to find Harry and Ron: she was confident that Hermione would have had the same idea.

She stepped over the debris and entered the small shaft. She could see the service hatch to the dormitory that she had tumbled through: it had been hidden behind a fake wall. Without her wand, and the girls dormitory still burning under the raging fire, she was not getting out of the basement the way she had involuntarily entered it.

"What are we waiting for then? Let's go! We have a target!"

Riddle. She had almost forgotten that he was in her head during the chaos of the attack, but the surreal calm of the sublevel did not help her block him out.

She forged onwards, ignoring Riddle's commentary on everything from the dried meat stored in baskets to how dusty the floor was. He seemed to be enjoying his newfound ability to interact with her: he was nothing like the Voldemort she knew, he wasn't the angry, obsessive bigot of the second wizarding war. No, the fragment of Tom Riddle that possessed her was friendly, talkative and somewhat upbeat: which was more terrifying than if he had been screaming bigoted abuse in her ear. The one thing that the two Riddles shared was their insanity: and the fragment, allowed to fester in her head for years, was altogether more manic and grasped far less sanity than his counterpart.

What worried her most however, was that she was starting to tolerate his presence. She even cracked a small smile at some of his sarcastic witticisms.

She was weighing up the ramifications of her strange acceptance of Riddle, when he shouted within her head, all of his pleasant banter dropped in an instant.

"Get down! There's an intruder around the corner!"

"Why are you helping me?" she threw back, as she took cover against the wall.

"Because, frankly, I don't want you dead. I'm having far too much fun!"

The jaunty tone was back, but there was a tension in his tone, that spoke of fear. She supposed that he wasn't used to putting his life in anybody's hands but his own.

"Great, I'd forgotten you've lost your wand. Now, you're going to have to punch her. Do you know how to punch? You take your fingers, you fold them inwards so that they touch your palm and your knuckles extend into a-"

"Riddle," She thought, "I know how to punch. I grew up with six older brothers."

She stepped out from her hiding spot: Ginny's prey had her back turned.

"Don't put your thumb inside your fist, it will shatter completely, or, rather less dramatically, break."

"Riddle. I know how to punch, ok?"

Changing her tactics slightly, she noticed that the handle of the attacker's wand was poking out of her robe pockets. She deftly plucked it from the pocket, and placed it within her own.

"Ok, now you're going to have to hit her now, with force. Don't just tap her, beat her down."

"SHUT UP!"

She gripped the woman's shoulder with her left hand, spun her around and smashed her right hand into the woman's nose. A crunch rang through the corridor, and blood soaked her knuckles.

"What are you waiting for, hit her again!"

Ginny punched the woman in her stomach, and drove her knee into her opponents face, a strange power coursing through her. It was not an emotion from Riddle, or dark magic, no: she was empowered by her hold over the woman's life. Blood pumped through her, adrenaline soared across her body and her hits came faster and stronger. She could not tell what Riddle was saying in her mind, but it only drove her harder. She gripped the woman's face with her hand and battered it until with a sickening crack, the woman's head snapped back beyond human limits.

"Doesn't that feel better? You were so stressed! Oh, and as a bonus, you won the allegiance of her wand. I guess killing is the way to win the heart of a murderer's wand."

Ginny stared down at the crippled form of the women in front of her as if only just aware of what she had accomplished. She nearly threw down the wand and refused to move but she could tell that now was not the time for a temper tantrum and she might need the wand later. Instead, she half-heartedly pocketed it and backed away from the women. "Who is she?"

"No one important to you, sweetie. She's met her end."

Ginny turned tail and ran, unable to go anywhere further than wall of the chamber and knelt down, hands covering her head. And there she let herself cry, screaming out at the man who was in her head. "Get out of my mind! I'm not going to become one of your little murderers who have no control."

"Oh, honey, that's not me. That's all you. I wouldn't worry anyway, they say the first is the hardest. It gets easier from here on out."

Ginny held her head. "Oh, thanks for that."

* * *

Ron awoke to the slightly bitter taste of hair: the cloying smell of sweat, blood and urine. He could see nothing at all, but by the feel of the warm bristles against his face and invading his mouth, he assumed that William was beneath him. Raising his head, fighting nausea as he did so, he concluded that it was indeed the werewolf.

He stood up shakily. His limbs felt weak, and he was off balance. He supported himself on a nearby beam, and took in the gruesome sight before him.

William was still alive. The four story fall had not killed him like it would if he were in his human form, but it had come close. The werewolf lay on the cobblestones, legs and arms twisted in haphazard directions, none of them bent in the way they should have been, were he healthy. Blood splattered the ground around him, and was focused mainly around the chest area. A flash of white amongst the bloody fur pointed to a broken rib. Howls of agony were spewing from a frothing mouth, the foam lacing the bottom of the beasts jaw and neck. Consumed by terror, the creature had released his bowels: urine flowed down the slightly sloped paved courtyard and into a small decorative ditch. One leg twitched in an uncontrollable desire to flee, but with each second, the break got worse.

Unable to stop the vomit, Ron turned aside and ejaculated the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He was disgusted by the horrific sight, yet he also felt compassion for the wounded werewolf. Whereas years before, he might have ran, he now knew that it was his duty to ease William's suffering. He sat himself down beside his roommate, contemplating his next words. The wolf wouldn't understand him, but he felt he owed it to the young man inside, who had died in circumstances outside his control, yet forced to live through within the beast.

"You won't make it once you turn back," he said matter of factly, "your werewolf form is the only thing keeping you alive right now: it truly is a curse, now more than ever."

The werewolf turned its head, a sad growl rumbling in its throat. As Ron looked into the creature's eyes, he saw a glimpse of humanity bonded with the wolf's mindless fear: resignation and acceptance.

"Alright, I'm going to cast a spell, and all the pain will go away. It'll be like falling asleep, yeah?"

He slowly stroked the werewolf's thick fur, comforting it before the inevitable. He didn't know how much of William was present, but he decided to make it easier for him if he could understand.

"I want you to think of your happiest memory, lose yourself in it, let it consume you. Don't worry about what's going on here, just think of there."

He moved the wand around to the back of the werewolf's neck, pressing lightly.

"Ok, think of the people you love, the wonderful things you've experienced: learning about magic and your family."

After a few seconds, Ron prepared himself. He just had to will the spell, and the boy's suffering would end.

A stunner at such close proximity was all it took: William fell into an unconsciousness he would never wake from.

Ron exhaled, unaware that he had been holding his breath. He stared down at William's broken body and contemplated. He wondered if he did have a family, and whether he truly did enjoy school, despite his poor description of it on their first night. Truly, Ron had drawn on his own experiences and poured it into his speech. His main intent was to distract whatever humanity the boy had left in his wolf form away from his death and towards happier memories. Ron hoped that he had succeeded.

Shouts from ahead brought him from his pondering and he swiftly took cover behind one of the pillars that lined the courtyard he had fallen into: evidently, there had been an attack: normally one of the servants would have unlocked the door and collected William, but the boy had remained trapped with them.

Ron didn't have any escape routes available to him: the exit was blocked by the attackers storming into the area. Ron assumed that they had seen the light from his wand as he comforted the dying werewolf. Running wasn't an option: he had to fight them off. He would do it for William, who had ultimately perished because of the mysterious assault, but also because of his own actions.

He owed it to William to fight off the invaders, to seek vengeance on those responsible, but also to redeem himself.

* * *

Hermione backed up against a wall and held out her wand, switching between people to watch, quickly. A dark haired man stepped forward first and she hurried to face him but a smirking blonde women pushed up next and she whirled around. They'd formed a half circle around her and seemed to enjoy teasing her. She wanted to scream because she'd never been this scared of Death Eaters, for that's who they must be, not even during the Final Battle because her friends had been there. But now she was alone with way too many Death Eaters and only her. She knew Ginny had been there at some point but the redhead must have left at some point after Hermione stopped keeping track of her. Maybe she was going for help!

She could feel each every ferocious heartbeat pounding in her chest. Her eyes kept slipping from person to person as each made a move that she felt was threatening.

The blond woman moved closer to her. "Why hello there, darling. There is no need to be afraid, we're all friends here. Aren't we, boys?"

Laughter broke out from the rest of the people surrounding her.

The dark haired man moved to stand beside the woman, "That's right, all friends. We are going to take good care of you." Their laughter renewed at that. "So why don't you just give us your wand and we can have a little fun?"

Hermione shook her head wildly. "No, no, no, I'm not going to let you get at me. No. No, no, nonononononono. NO!" With that last no, she cast a spell, the only spell that she could think of, and poured all of her willpower into it. There was a blinding flash of light, that caused Hermione to close her eyes and press her arms over face. Shortly afterward, she felt great force press flat against the wall which came along with an echoing crack.

She stood like that for a few moments, heart thudding wildly in her chest, too afraid to move her arms and open her eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly (once her heart slowed down to an almost normal rate and she registered that the only sounds she heard were from somewhere the distance), she started move her hands away from her eyes, and then open them. She immediately wished she hadn't.

The Death Eater- she was now certain that they were Death Eaters, one of their arms was bare and she could the Dark Mark contrasting against the pale white skin- had been strewn across the room. The force from her spell having blasted them in every direction. She didn't know if any of them were still alive. Some of them had definitely died though, one had ended up impaled on the leg of a chair that had been knocked over at some point during the fight. The man who had been taunting her wasn't anywhere in sight, but the window was now missing all of its glass. There was a couple that looked like they had broken their necks, for they were hanging at unnatural angle. The woman wasn't even a body, it looked like Hermione's spell had hit her directly, there were pieces of her body spread all around the room, and her blood was splattered over everything. Hermione was too afraid to look down at herself and see how much blood had been splattered on her.

* * *

Lucius smirked down his wand at Harry, flicking it and sending the boy crashing into a wall. Harry bit his lip to keep from yelling something at the man. He knew that Malfoy wouldn't know who he was, he knew that, but at the same time... he knew exactly what Lucius would do in the future. A blonde woman strutted into the room, pulling out her own wand, an engagement ring glinting on her finger and Harry tried to duck into the rubble surrounding him. He didn't have her love for her son to distract her now.

"Well, what do we have here..." The woman, Narcissa, brushed against Lucius briefly and made her way over to Harry, acknowledging her husband with a quick exclamation. "Bella's out in the grounds."

Harry knew that Ron had fallen out of the window on top of Will and, if he made it, was probably there now. That wasn't good... not at all. He was only too aware of what Bellatrix was capable of. He shivered at the thought, before sending out a silent prayer that Ron would not have to fight her.

"Charming, I'm sure," said Lucius, with a vicious smirk.

Narcissa giggled, slightly madly at that. Harry could really see a resemblance to her sister there. "So Lucius, who do we have here?" she asked, kicking Harry's wand out of his hand, making sure to crush the hand as well.

"Just some mudblood," sneered Lucius. He raised his wand and pointed it at Harry, "Crucio!"

Harry screamed in agony, as what felt like thousands of white hot needles pierced his skin as he was slowly lowered in to a pit of boiling acid. The pain seemed to go on for years, and intensify as each second passed. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as the times that Voldemort had cast the curse on him, but that did not stop him wishing for the pain to end.

After what felt like eons the pain stopped. Lucius and Narcissa were towering over him, laughing.

Harry spat out some blood on to the ground, and gritted his teeth. He just needed a distraction, that was it.

BANG!

Harry jumped, and Lucius and Narcissa span around to find out where that sound came from.

The Headmaster of the school was now standing in the doorway, holding the shotgun that had been hanging in his office. It was what had made the sound. Strapped to his waist were the two swords that had also been on that plaque. He had a thunderous expression on his, and all of the tiredness and absent mindedness he had when Harry had first met him was completely gone. Harry could smell gunsmoke and blood coming from the wizard. Just out the doorway he could see a trail of bodies. Wondering why he had only recently been able to hear the gunshots, his eyes were drawn to the swords again. This time he noticed that they were covered in blood.

He felt his stomach churn, but he forced it down. Now was not the time. Instead he turned his mind to focus on what he had to do.

Meanwhile, the Headmaster was glaring daggers at the two Death Eaters, hatred seeping into every ounce of his being. "Get the bloody hell out of my school, you murdering bastards." With that he fired the gun at Lucius and Narcissa.

It hit Lucius in his right shoulder. He howled in anger and pain, and ended dropping his wand. He fell to his knees and quickly snatched up his wand with his left hand.

It seemed that gun was out of ammo, for the Headmaster threw it to the ground and quickly drew his swords with a speed and dexterity he never shown before. He charged at Narcissa, but he never made it that far, having been hit with the killing curse.

Harry watched as if in slow motion as the Headmaster dropped his swords. They made a loud clattering sound as the hit the floor. He seemed to have aged several tens of years from when the curse hit him, even though his face was frozen in the wide eyed disbelief that he got at the sight of the curse coming his way. He slowly fell to his knees, he seemed to stay like that for almost a minute, before collapsing face first onto the ground. A cloud of dust went up with the thud that the body had made.

The two Death Eaters were laughing maniacally, Lucius having crudely and temporarily healed his shoulder.

"The old fool," Narcissa laughed, darkly. "Thinking that he could defeat us with muggle weapons." She spat out the word muggle as though it was vile and disgusting old rodent.

They turned back to Harry, evil and bloodthirsty glints in their eyes.

"Now what should we do with this one?" asked Narcissa, in a mockingly sweet voice. "I think that we deserve a little fun don't you?"

"Indeed we do my dear," said Lucius, his vicious smirk returning. As one they raised their wands and pointed them at Harry.  
"Crucio!"

But Harry was ready for it this time, he had used the time he had gained from when they had been focusing on the Headmaster to get his wand. He rolled out of the way of their curses and brought his wand to face them. He fired off several curses in quick succession, all of which were deflected.

Before he had time to do anything else several other Death Eater came into the room, attracted by the commotion that the Headmaster had caused. All of them ready with their wands out and ready to fight. They smirked when they saw their prey.

'Great. Just great.' Harry thought, groaning, why did things like this always have to happen to him? Was Lucius and Narcissa enough? Now he had to take on fifteen, maybe twenty or so Death Eaters, he couldn't really tell. Though one thing did stand out to them, none of them were wearing masks. In the back of his mind he wondered why, but there was no time to think about that now. It was fight or die.

And how the bloody hell was he supposed to survive? He was going to kill whomever it was that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.


	6. Chapter Five: Schadenfreude

**Chapter Five- Schadenfreude**

**- malicious pleasure in others' misfortunes -**

* * *

**Metric- Combat Baby:**

I want to be wrong but

No one here wants to fight me like you do

Combat baby come back baby

Fight off the lethargy

Don't go quietly

Combat baby

Said you would never give up easy

Combat baby come back

* * *

Ginny got to her feet, shakily, fingers pressed to her temple. "Oh... oh!" She let out a shaky whimper and bit her lip. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Her breathing was slow, concentrated and she had to lean against the wall of the room to balance herself. She had lost her will and with it, her energy.

"Oh, are you feeling a bit down? A little bit sick?"

"I'm fine."

It was a lie. Her insides churned, and she felt as if she was crossing Hogwarts' two tallest towers on a tightrope.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to lie?"

"You wouldn't understand: there's nothing wrong with you because you're used to it!"

The room seemed to pitch and sway, a blurred image invading her vision. No matter where she turned, the ghostly specter hovered, just out of reach. The unnatural projection solidified, becoming the fragment of Tom Riddle that had invaded her mind.

He was smiling, a broad, frozen grin that conveyed nothing but a sinister, mocking laugh. His teeth looked yellow against his too pale face, his eyes black and uncompromising under hooded lids. He leaned in, leering, his dark eyes locked with hers.

"Nice of you to say, but you should know by now: there's plenty wrong with me!"

She screamed, scrambling backwards. He seemed to follow her, sneering at her even when she covered her eyes. "Get back in my head! I don't need to..." It made it more real, she couldn't deny it. When she actually saw him...

"Oh, Is little Ginny scared? Like back in your first year?"

"Don't mention that." She'd barely noticed that she'd started screaming at him, concluding her circle around the room to avoid him. "I was only eleven."

"And now you're only sixteen. Haven't changed much, have you?"

"Don't talk to me! You don't know who I am!"

"Don't I? I watch you when you sleep...No, I'm just twisting your arm, but I did spend most of my time listening to your thoughts before the temporal shift. I couldn't do much else: being a fragment of an evil wizard's soul latched to a teenage girl isn't as appealing as I thought it would be. I had to listen to your rather impure thoughts regarding our favourite scarred hero for most of your fifth year. I mean, that's the guy who killed me! Twice! What are you doing with a guy like him, anyway?"

"I didn't ask your opinion on the boys I like."

"They were all you could think of for most of your teenage years; the Golden Trio were off battling werewolves, giants and dragons! What were you doing? Thinking about how nice Michael Corner's smile was."

"The Golden Trio? What sort of a name is that?"

"I had four years in your head: I had to do something while you were snogging Dean in a broom closet."

A pause; Riddle looked to the side.

"Oh! Oh! What's that over there? I think the Big Bad Wolf is coming to gobble you up!"

Laughing maniacally, he left her vision, allowing her to see clearly. The rather large werewolf approaching through the passageway made her wish she couldn't see the blood staining it's teeth in quite so much detail.

"Here's a word to the wise: don't let him bite you."

"No kidding, you idiot!"

"I don't appreciate such negativity! Now, how would you feel about moving?"

She slipped out of the way just in time, the werewolf crashing into the wall where she'd she just been standing. Skidding to a stop, she turned around with her wand out. This time she was ready when the wolf turned to face her and she hit him with imperio. She'd heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione complaining about a lesson one time where they said something about how hard it was to get an unforgivable spell to work but it seemed to come to her naturally when she tried, the hand that grasped her wand shaking slightly at the strength of the spell.

Riddle smirked. "Not half bad for a first try."

"Oh, be quiet. You can't even cast a spell anymore."

He chuckled, softly. "Well, I can't cast a spell, no. But that doesn't stop me controlling spells like, now, what's a good example? Ah yes, the imperius curse you just used. It's a funny old world isn't it? Werewolf, I'd like you to die, ? Don't look at me like that, I did ask nicely!"

"No! Just... just send it off. It hasn't hurt you."

"Ginny, it has the capacity to kill me, and by extension, you, every second it remains alive. Besides, I'm doing you a favour! Send it away, and it will come back. It has your scent."

"No! I'm in control, here. You wouldn't even be alive right now if it wasn't for me! You owe me one, and you damn well know it."

"Look, Billy-no-mates over there is a waste of space: He won't have anybody to love when he transforms back: his school is destroyed, his parents dead, his friends murdered. What kind of a life is that?"

A moments pause, before the fragment adopted a high pitched falsetto tone.

"Oh, how do we know they're all dead? What if someone survived?"

"Trust me, they didn't. My Death Eaters are pretty damn good, even as trainees. Besides, have you seen the shoddy work the students of this awful school do? I'm surprised they know which end of the wand to hold." He said smugly, returning to his normal voice.

Ginny's mind flickered to her friends quickly but she pushed it away. They had to fend for themselves like she was. She wasn't responsible for them. She kicked a rock over to the wolf and willed it to kill itself. She nearly closed her eyes, but refused to: she had told the werewolf to kill itself, she was in control. It was her decision, not Riddle's in the end, and a warm rush of dominance flooded into her, negating some of the pain she felt. The hold over the werewolf's life had been slightly intoxicating, and she shook herself slightly.

Riddle was right though: the second kill was easier than the first.

* * *

A hooded Death Eater stepped forward, pushing back her hood to let a tangle of black hair escape. Ron gulped and looked up and into the mad eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was cackling to herself, rubbing her wand between her hands and beckoning to a woman behind her. A brown haired women stepped forward, grabbing Ron's wrists with her hands and holding him still. Bella glanced at him, curiously.

"Now, what spell first. Don't mind me, I like to change it around: they say that variety is the spice of life. Torturing people can get so boring if you keep it in the same order. Crucio, verbal abuse, crucio, verbal abuse...it's just so BORING! I like to get a little more..." Bellatrix licked her lips and batted her eyelashes, "intimate with my little friends. Are you going to be my friend? I have to wonder, are you going to play nice, or naughty? Are you going to SCREAM?"

She cackled, bouncing up and down on the tips of her toes.

"Oh, I love it when they scream!" She darted around him, grabbing his shirt and dragging him closer. "You gonna play along? 'Cause it's boring when they cooperate. I like a little tension, some hatred makes it exciting. Oh... we'll have a great time." She waved the other Death Eaters off. "Don't tell my husband I said that."

The other Death Eaters trickled out of the courtyard, grumbling slightly. Evidently Bella had always been able to order the Death Eaters around.

"Of course," she said suggestively, moving her body close to his own, "there is another kind of tension. I think you know what I'm talking about, I can see it in your eyes. You're trying to make it seem like I disgust you, but your body is betraying you."

Ron squirmed and tried to back away from her but she grabbed him and ran her wand along his arm. He cringed and tried to pull away but she snaked an arm around him. "I can get us a room, if you'd like. I've got... ways. What with all this chaos... no one will miss us. And besides... I know you want me. And even if you don't, I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Ron gulped. This was Bellatrix Lestrange, he'd heard so many things about her, he'd seen her kill people without thinking twice. And she wanted to be alone. That couldn't be a good mix.

Before he could reject her offer, she drew close to him, too close. He couldn't think of a single word to say: her breath, a slightly minty odor laced with firewhiskey assaulted his senses. It wasn't unpleasant, but he couldn't say that he enjoyed it. Shocking him further, she pressed her lips to his, firmly and forcibly. Her lips were slightly chapped: the roughness of them scratched at his lips but also left a soft buzzing that surprised him. The contact felt good and bad, hot and cold. He wasn't sure if he wanted to vomit, or deepen the kiss. He didn't think that emptying his stomach over her face would go down very well, so instead he opened his mouth and allowed her long, snake like tongue to twist and ensnare his own.

A scream from their right broke the moment and Bellatrix turned sharply, enraged.

"Trust a mudblood to ruin this for me." She turned back to Ron and smiled provocatively.

"Here's something to remember me by."

She leaned into his neck and bit down, leaving prominent bite marks across his neck. Blood seeped from the wounds and she swiftly licked across the droplets, drinking it greedily.

"Look out for me: we'll finish what we started!"

One last glance back, and she was gone, intent on murder and torture once again.

"Bloody hell! I can see why people call her insane!"

* * *

Hermione felt as though her heart had stopped. She had killed someone. Not just one person, several. Granted, they were Death Eaters, but they were still people. They were still humans. Those thoughts filled her head, one after the other, each one less coherent than the last. After several minutes of standing there frozen in horrified shock, she doubled over and vomited.

She registered the smell of blood and vomit, and spewed out the rest of yesterday's dinner. She stood there, dry heaving for a couple more minutes.

Finally, she felt like she could handle the situation a little better, she straightened out. It helped that she feared that Death Eaters could be coming to kill her at any moment.

She glanced over the Death Eaters one last time. She couldn't leave without at least finding out if any of them had survived. She walked to each one that was not obviously dead, and felt for a pulse. Nothing. They had all died from the impact, in some way. She knew that if her stomach was not already empty, she would have lost the contents all over again. As it was, she was about to start dry heaving again.

She fled from the room, unable to be in it for any longer.

She passed the bodies of several of the students and staff members, as she ran. She didn't stop until she turned a corner, and there she froze.

Standing at the end of the corridor, conversing, were five Death Eaters. Three of them she did not recognize, but two of their faces would forever be burned into her memory. She might not have met them in person, but the article from her fifth year made enough of an impact that she could not wipe its presence from her mind, no matter how hard she tried. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange.

They were younger, nowhere near a gaunt or dirty as they had been in the picture, but she was still able to recognize them immediately.

She started to back away quietly, hoping to go unnoticed.

It was too late, they had already spotted her, and were making their way towards her. She turned to run back the way that she came, but was unable to. She could feel that a rope had wrapped itself around her leg. There was a sharp yank, and she found herself face first on the floor, and was being swiftly dragged backwards. She bumped into many things, some of them hard enough to leave bruises, and some that made her want to be sick again when she realized what they were. She struggled to break free, to pull herself out of their hold, but they were much stronger than her. She was unable to do anything, and it only served to make the ride worse. She ceased her struggle and started to plan.

"This one's a feisty one," said one of them. They all laughed at that.

She reached them, and one of them kicked her over.

"Well, hello there," she didn't recognize the one who spoke. "What might your name be, Pretty?"

Hermione spat a mouthful of blood into his face, she had bitten her tongue on the ride.

The others laughed at his expense as he wiped the blood from of his face. He sneered at her. "You're going to pay for that, Pretty." That line just caused more laughter, this time with a more manic lilt to it.

Hermione swallowed hard, she wanted to whimper, but now was not a good time for that. Now was the time to enact her plan.

Having successfully used her wand to sever the ropes around her ankle without them noticing, she swung her legs around, knocking one of the men down and into another. Both of them collapsed in a heap onto the ground. She took advantage of the distraction and quickly stood, taking several steps away from them.

She quickly took note of everyone's position, as the two she had knocked down disentangled themselves and stood. Rodolphus, Rabastan, and the one she spat blood on all had their wands out and pointing her, the other two were quick to follow suit.

Her eyes scanned the hallway, looking for anything that could be of use to her, while still being sure to keep an eye on the Death Eaters. There wasn't much, just a couple of tables with decorative candelabras on them, two chandeliers hanging from ceiling that gave off the only light, and a long and skinny fancy carpet that stretched the hall. That gave her an idea.

"What you waiting for, Pretty?" asked the bloody Death Eater. He smirked, "A kiss?" He took one step towards her.

Hermione choose that moment to act. She summoned the table from behind the Death Eaters, it crashed into the books of the same two that she had knocked down before, throwing them brutally to the floor. Then she set fire to the carpet. It swiftly spread, until it was burning the whole hall.

Rodolphus and Rabastan pushed their way past the other Death Eaters in order to escape out of the hallway.

Hermione stayed just long enough to see the fire envelop the three remaining Death Eaters, before she fled. Their shouts of agony rang in her ears.

* * *

Harry stumbled backwards as the mask-less Death Eaters continued to pile inside of the room. There were so many of them! Sure, he'd faced these many in the past, if not more, but he wasn't alone when he fought them, and this time he was all alone. No one to turn to for help if he needed it. And he had no doubt that he probably would.

Maybe, if he was lucky, Hermione or Ginny would reach him somehow. He knew Ron wouldn't be able to, he was probably already fighting Death Eaters, if he was even alive.

He gulped at the very thought, hoping deep down that none of his friends were injured. He couldn't worry about that now, though.

Apparently, there weren't any Death Eaters left, as they had stopped piling into the room and were currently standing at the ready, wands extended.

Harry glanced around at each of the exposed faces, looking for someone, anyone, that he knew. But besides Lucius Malfoy and his wife, who currently stood in the front of the large crowd of Death Eaters, identical wicked grins on both of their faces, there was no one in particular that really stood out to him.

Harry took another hasty step backwards as the Death Eaters slowly began to inch forward. His mind raced for answers, and his heart was beating faster and faster. They were ganging up on him, he had to act quickly. But what could he do? It wasn't as if he could knock out all of them with one blast. It would take awhile to be rid of all of them.

Cold, evil laughter ran through his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut. This was the end, it had to be. He couldn't fight all of them off, who was he kidding? Unless... That was it, he would catch them by surprise. He raised his wand high, hand already shaking, and the cold laughter echoed throughout the room once more. 'One... two... three!'

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, opening his eyes at once. Apparently, Lucius had done the same as he, for a blast of red light emitted from both of their wands and met at the middle, before ricocheting off of each other's and blasting in different directions.

The red jet of light from Lucius's wand had bounded backwards, hitting the shelf that usually held their wands. There was a small crack as the wood split, but it didn't cause too much damage.

Harry's, on the other hand, had bounced upward and straight into the glassy chandelier suspended high above them all.

For a second, everything was frozen and nobody moved; the room was engulfed in silence.

But then, at once, everything broke out into commotion as the chandelier burst into a thousand pieces upon impact, sharp and shattered glass raining down on their exposed heads.

A few of the Death Eaters just below the chandelier screamed, attempting to get out of the way, but it was no use. Glass was spraying in every direction: there was no avoiding it.

Harry covered his face with his hands, but even so, he felt a few pieces of glass slice open his skin. He bit his lip and tried to disregard it as he thought for a moment, peeking through his raised arms to see what was going on. The Death Eaters weren't focused on him anymore. They were focused on what was going on around them. 'This would be his opportunity!'

Harry's heart raced. This could be his one and only chance, and he would have to take it.

Without another look back, he ran forward and through the open doorway, past the confused Death Eaters still inside the room, oblivious to the fact that he had just narrowly escaped. 'Yes!' He thought to himself, heart leaping in his chest, a grin spreading across his face. He had escaped, and he was safe!

Now he would just have to find one of his friends, preferably Ron. 'Yes,' he thought again, 'you'll find Ron, help him fight off the Death Eaters, and then you'll go back to find Ginny and Hermione.' Nodding in approval at his plan, he continued to sprint down the hallway, determined to make it to him.

He turned a corner and continued to sprint his way down the next length of hallway, but didn't make it the full way before he had collided head on with another person. He winced, hoping dearly that it was one of his friends. Although, it seemed as though his luck had dissolved to nothing, because it most definitely was not one of his friends.

"Looking for me?" said the familiar, cold, shrill voice of the person standing in front of him.

Reluctantly, Harry eased himself to look up at the person with whom he had collided. She was stocky and gave off a wheezing giggle. "Well, what do we have here? Another student. We like students, don't we, Amycus?"

Alecto Carrow stared up at him, a good four or five inches shorter than him and motioned to her brother who appeared behind her. He grunted and pulled out his wand, nudging his sister who let out another giggle.

"Who's this one?" His voice was low and he hunched over. Harry gulped.

"I'm... I'm Australian."

"Sure doesn't sound Australian." Alecto had her wand out as well at this point. "He must be lying. You know that we don't like liars, don't you know, kid? Oh, you don't? Well... we don't like liars."

"Yeah..." Amycus agreed, his speech slow, "Remember what we do to liars."

Harry knew all too well, having heard Neville's stories of Hogwarts under the Carrow's rule and he tried to glance around the halls without them seeing.

They did notice but seemed to think he was trying to remember the castle. "Oh, the little boy's trying to come up with some dying wish," Alecto purred.

"Maybe he wants to remember this place during it's good times," her brother sneered.

Harry ignored the duo and inched down the hall, quietly. They seemed too busy arguing over what spell would have the best effect to notice him. He'd noticed when he was in the Ravenclaw Common Room during the Final Battle with Luna that they seemed dumb and too engrossed with each other and now he was putting that to the test. Three more steps and he would be around the corner and then he could make a dash for it. Two more steps... they were discussing the finer points of the crucio spell, one more... they were still in animated discussion with each other, Alecto waving her arms to demonstrate how the victim would react and Amycus waving around his wand dangerously. And... Harry's toes were around the corner, he just had to duck and run. Alecto turned towards him in her maneuver, spotted him just as he went around and let out a scream. They both scrambled after Harry, as he hurried down the hall, head down and wand out.

* * *

Ron felt like he was going to be sick, one of the Death Eaters had gone off to discover who had made the scream. He was no back, dragging a girl not older than five by her hair. She must have been one of the teachers daughters. She was so small.

A deep terrified look mingled with pain spread her face, as she struggled to remove herself from the grasp of the Death Eaters. Ron could see the tear stains shine on her face in the light from the full moon. The was a damp spot on the front of her robes, as if she had been crying into them. She looked around silently pleading for someone to help her, someone to save her.

Ron gulped, wishing that he could do something to prevent the fate that he knew was coming. He looked around trying to find the Death Eater that had taken his wand. He saw her, she was twisting it around in her hands, watching the new developments with a smirk. He felt the grasp that had been holding him slacken, as if whoever had been holding him was distracted.

"My oh my," cackled Bellatrix, and insane and bloody thirsty glint in her eyes, as she examined her new found prey. "What a little darling you are. Now why don't you come to Auntie Bellatrix and we can have some fun?"

The little girl shook her head as much as she could while her was being tightly held by the Death Eater.

"No, you don't like that idea?" said Bellatrix, in a sing-song voice, "Then I have another idea." She pointed her wand at the child, and said, "Crucio!"

Ron's heart nearly stopped, at the sound of the child's screams. So innocent, but still so much pain. He had to act now.

In one move he wrenched himself out of the grasp of the Death Eater that had been holding him, and snatched back his wand. The girls screams stopped. His stomach turned, as he hoped that she would still be all and sane. His mind briefly flitted to what had happened to the Longbottoms, a mere child would not last that long.

"Tut, tut. Naughty, naughty," whispered Bellatrix, madly wagging a finger at him.

Ron gritted his teeth and cast as rapidly as he could, every curse, spells and anything else that he could think of. Some were deflected and some hit their targets, while eyes went whizzing off into space. Not one of them had scored a goal on Bellatrix.

She was slowly advancing on him, still twirling her finger. She didn't get very far, when there were several popping sound coming from all around them. She hissed in anger, and sent one last curse at the girl before apparating away, along with every other Death Eater around.

Ron turned to run towards the girl, but froze before had gotten anywhere near her. Bellatrix's last curse, has severed the girls head from her body. Ron fell to his knees unable to take his eyes off the decapitated form.

It wasn't until he heard commotion from the house did he turn. He saw Harry running out the front exit, being chased by two Death Eaters. The Death Eaters quickly disapparated upon sight of the Aurors in the distance. Next he noticed that Ginny was running out from behind the house. Finally, someone with extremly bushy brown hair= Hermione- jumped out a window on the third floor, right before flames engulfed the area that she had been moments before. She landed on a surprisely bouncy section of ground.

They all caught up at where Ron was, each of them breathless. They exchanged relieved looks, and silently watched the house burn to the ground while the Aurors bustled around them.


	7. Chapter Six: Suffering

_A/N: Hello again everyone. We hope that you are enjoying our story so far. We would just like announce that for this chapter we have a guest co-author. He helped us out when we didn't know what else to write. I would like you all to welcome Voldemort (mjc). He may or may not make appearances helping us write in the future. We owe him our sincerest thanks, though. - The Seventh Horcrux, Scar._

* * *

**Chapter Six- Suffering**

_**- **__**to**_ _**undergo,**_ _**be**_ _**subjected to, **__**or**_ _**endure**_ _**pain, distress or loss -**_

* * *

**Metric- Breathing Underwater**

_Lights of days_

_Will beat a path through the mirrored maze_

_I can see the end_

_But it hasn't happened yet_

_I can see the end_

_But it hasn't happened yet_

_Is this my life?_

_Am I breathing underwater?_

_Is this my life?_

_Am I breathing underwater?_

* * *

"Are you alright there?"

A trainee auror approached them, his strawberry blond hair sticking out in all directions. He looked slightly queasy, as if this was his first taste of war. He brightened when as he approached.

"Boy, am I glad to see someone from the school that's alive! A nasty business, that attack. You're the first we've found alive."

The young man stared around at the carnage before them.

"They put up a good fight though! You Know Who won't have quite as many initiates now as he did beforehand."

He paused for a moment, frowning, before rapidly twisting to face them.

"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Edgar, Edgar Bones. My sister, Amelia, she'll get you sorted out in a minute. She's gonna have a small chat with you, and then get you to Hogwarts. You're not in trouble: it's just a routine check, and she's doing her job, that's all."

He looked around furtively, checking for his superiors.

"Now, this is against regulations, but I won't say a word if you don't."

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small packet of Honeydukes Best. He handed each of them a bar, smiling reassuringly.

"You've been through hell, and it's less than you deserve, but here. You need it far more than I do!"

He grinned apologetically upon hearing another auror shout his name, "Sorry guys, I have to help with the clean-up. Good luck with my sister, and with skills like yours, I hope I'll see you join the aurors' when school finishes!"

With that, he was gone, sprinting across the charred garden and helping to quell the flames engulfing the building.

Shortly afterwards, Amelia Bones walked towards them. She had a deep frown on her face. Ron noticed that she was coming from the body of the little girl, Ron's stomach lurched as memories of the child flooded his mind.

He shook his head trying to clear it, a grimace on his face.

Hermione saw Ron's change in expression, so she followed his gaze, and promptly took several steps back clasping her hands over her mouth.

Amelia sighed, "Takes this, it will take you to somewhere more private where we can discuss everything." She handed them an old and tattered scarf. "I will be with you soon, to go over what has happened here." With that she left, to talk to another Auror that looked a lot like Alastor Moody, only with less scars both his eyes and his legs.

They exchanged glances. Harry groaning, as he put his hand on the scarf. He might hate portkeys, but this is the last place that he wanted to be at.

They were whisked away, just as the sun was starting to rise.

* * *

They had been waiting in the office for several hours. All of them extremely tired, but none of them willing to sleep. Thoughts of the night haunted them. They hadn't said a word to each other during their wait. There was nothing for them to say, they all knew what the others had went through. Time for talk would come later.

Ron was pacing back and forth with his arms crossed, and a solemn expression on his face. He had been like that ever since they had arrived in Amelia's office. Once he got really frustrated and grabbed a picture frame off the desk and was about to throw it, before sighing and gently placing it back down.

Hermione was sitting with her head in her hands, only showing that she was still awake, by periodically wiping the tears from her face.

Ginny sat in the only other chair that was not behind the desk. Her face was ashen white, her hands balled into fists, and her face blank of emotion. Whenever there was a loud noise she would jump and spin around wildly as if trying to find a threat, and only when she realised that they were safe would she would sit back down.

Harry leaned against the wall, watching people walk past the open doorway, but nothing registered in his mind. All he could think of was the night before. Flashes of memories one after another, they didn't make much sense each one starting out back, and slowly getting worse with each new one. It got to a point where he couldn't handle it anymore, so he shook his head and tried to force himself to think of something else. It never lasted for long though, his mind kept trailing back to the memories, and the cycle started all over again.

Amelia walked into the office, and looked around at the four students. It was hard to see such young people pulled into the pain and sorrow of war. She took the seat and turned to face them. Harry and Ron had moved to moved to stand behind the girls. She waved her wand and two more chairs appeared. She gestured for the boys to take them. Once everyone was seated she pulled out a quill and some parchments.

"I apologise for taking so long," she said. She looked to each individually, taking in their appearances. Hermione had flecks of blood all over her, from when she blown up the Death Eaters, and soot from being caught in the fire. Ron had grass and dirt all over him, and a bite mark on his neck that was poorly hidden. No one wanted to ask how he had received that. The next was Harry, his face, neck and arms were covered in scratches from the chandelier glass, a couple of them still had noticeable shards of of glass protruding from them. Finally her eyes rested on Ginny, who seemed to be in the best physical condition, but Amelia could tell the girl was just as troubled if not more so than the others. "I know that all of you are tired, that will have to wait though. We have things that we must discuss, and it needs to be decided on what we will be doing with you. As of now, you are all wards off the ministry, until you finish school."

Hermione nodded swiftly in understanding, "Understood, Madam Bones. What are we going to be doing for school?

Amelia almost smiled at that, "We will be sending you to Hogwarts." She raised her hand to stop further questions as Hermione opened her mouth to speak again. "There are other things we must discuss first."

The four nodded solemnly, knowing what was coming next.

* * *

Dumbledore's office was relatively unchanged from the last time Harry had been inside it: the Dumbledore of 1977 possessed less of his strange silver instruments and his chair behind his desk was an obnoxiously bright, multicoloured, explosion that one could sit in. Harry chuckled mentally upon seeing the strange chair: he was surprised that the Headmaster had gotten rid of it in his time, as it was something he was certain the Headmaster cherished dearly. He wondered what had happened to it. Everything else remained unchanged, even the pensieve sat upon the same shelf.

Dumbledore himself sat in the centre of the whirl of colour, his half moon spectacles dancing in the candlelight. His beard was not quite as white as in their time: it seemed to hold hints of blonde and in the flickering glow sparkled with the colour and texture of champagne. He coughed slightly and motioned for them to sit down.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken and if I may be bold enough to say that I very rarely am, you two are Weasleys." Dumbledore stated matter of factly, his fingers closing together on the top of his desk.

"Yes sir! Our Father, Edward Weasley, he attended Hogwarts but decided to pursue muggle banking once he finished. He sent us to the Paracelsus Academy because it was closer to where we live."

Dumbledore nodded, but a light legilimency probe gave him new information to ponder. He respected the four in front of him enough to refrain from delving deeper, but he realised that they were hiding something from him. He decided to ignore it until later: they had been fighting against the Death Eaters, Albus doubted that they had any sympathies towards Voldemort's crusade.

"What about you," he continued, focusing on Harry, "What's your story?"

Harry sighed, tired beyond measure.

"With respect sir, we've just been through hell: we're exhausted. Besides, Amelia Bones of the auror office sent me with a report detailing our history."

Ignoring Hermione's scandalised look, he reached into his pocket and handed Dumbledore the report Amelia had written. The headmaster winked at him.

"I understand, my dear boy. I was merely hoping to sate an old man's curiosity."

As he read through the investigative report, his smile lost some of its spirit.

"Yes, well, I can see why it would be hard to speak of such things, Mr. Porter. Please, accept my apologies for any distress my comments may have caused."

Harry inclined his head, saving his energy for listening to what Dumbledore had to say.

"Nevertheless, I believe you will fit right in. It's strange, Mr Porter. You bear an uncanny resemblance to a current seventh year student: I would have mistaken you for him had it not been for your eyes or your different hairstyles."

Harry grinned, realising immediately that the Headmaster was referencing his Dad.

"You have arrived rather late into the school year and unfortunately the Ministry has decreed that we will not be allowing you to undergo the traditional sorting ceremony," Dumbledore seemed rather disappointed about this. "We have some guest rooms that shall be put to your use, for the rest of the year. They only consist of a two bedrooms two beds each, two bathrooms and a sitting room. Which I believe shall be adequate to your needs. Do you have all of your supplies?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Madam Bones had sent someone to Diagon Alley before sending us here, so that we would be able to have everything that we would need."

Dumbledore nodded, and handed all of them a form. "I need you to fill those all out by the end of tomorrow so that you can be placed in the the classes that you will be taking."

"If you please, sir," said Hermione, timidly. The stress was just getting too much for her to bear. She wanted somewhere that she could go and be in peace with her friends, and not have to worry about giving away that they were from the future, or Death Eaters trying to kill them, or anything else for that matter. "We would just like to go to our rooms and rest. We have had a very long and trying day, after an even longer and more trying night, with no chance to rest or even wash up."

"Ah yes," said the headmaster, nodding, "Indeed. Well then, get your rest tonight, and tomorrow morning I will introduce you to the school. Also, seeing as you are not members of any of the houses, you may sit at any table you wish. See to it that you do mingle with students and just be yourselves. Now, if that is all, you may go."

* * *

Ron immediately collapsed into an overstuffed armchair the minute they entered their rooms. "Finally." He closed his eyes and attempted to relax into the chair. It didn't work out so well, with those images haunting his mind's eye.

"Well, it looks like you'll get to meet your parents after all, Harry."

Harry, the only person in the room who seemed remotely happy, nodded. The possibility had given him new energy, and already the attack on the school was losing its grip on him.

"Hermione," said Ron, just remembering something that had been bugging him since the interrogation. "Why did you give Madam Bones, wrong birthdays for us?"

Hermione shook her head in exasperation, "I didn't, at least not technically. I calculated it all out. When we came to the past, we moved 127 days forward in the year-"

"Wait! What?" said Harry, confusedly. "How the bloody hell can someone go back in time and forward in time at the same time?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted again. This time by Ginny.

"Don't. Just don't. I don't want to know."

Ron and Harry decidedly nodded their heads in agreement. Hermione huffed and stormed off to the room that was for her and Ginny.

"Mental. Bloody mental she is," said Ron, shaking his head. Sighing he stood, "Well, I'm off to bed." He vacated the room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

"Ginny..."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, that's my line."

"Just sit with me, Harry?"

* * *

Bellatrix lay languidly on the bed, running her nails across her husband's chest.

"Bella, my dear, he was just some common guttersnipe. Forget about him. Hell, he may even been one of those Weasley brats. You know how that family is...rabbits have less sprogs than they do."

"Yes, but he was delicious."

"Dear, are you sure you weren't bitten?"

"By Sanguini? That damn poof. He wouldn't know what to do with a woman, let alone be able to bite her," answered Bellatrix, starting to nibble on her husband's ear.

"I'll kill him for you and deliver you his vitals on a bed of lettuce, if you'd like."

"You'd do that for me, my dear?"

Narcissa turned away from the door, looking for a pail, loo or even a potted plant. She knew her sister was slightly unbalanced, but what she had just heard through the door was enough to make her want to lose her last meal.

"Did you find them?" asked the smooth voice of Lucius.

"Yes," she answered, pointing to the door, "but I wouldn't go in there, if I were you. They are rather indisposed."

"Well, yes, but we are wanted. Our Lord want's to discuss what happened tonight."

Narcissa paled at the the thought. "We lost so many, will he be upset?"

"I'm not sure. He didn't seem to be when he sent me to gather up those of us who returned," he said, with a slight quiver to his voice. "My father and uncle are with him now, so we do have a few minutes."

"So, what actually happened tonight?" asked Narcissa, slipping out of Lucius's embrace.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what happened. We were supposed to go there and cause a little mayhem. Nobody there was supposed to be able to stand against us. That school was full of Mudbloods and near Squibs. It's Head had to use those revolting Muggle weapons. But..."

Lucius put a finger to her lips. "I know. Maybe there were some new students?"

"That would explain it, but where would they have come from?"

"I don't know, but I'll try to find out."

"Excellent, my friend. I see your father was right, you do have a good measure of ambition and a thirst to succeed," said a voice, behind Lucius.

Lucius spun to face the new voice, "Yes, my Lord."

"Then that is what you will be doing, tomorrow. I want you to find out, exactly, where they came from. Anyone capable of that kind of damage may be useful to our cause. But if they prove to be resistant. Kill them."

"As you wish, my Lord."

"Oh, Narcissa, please tell your darling sister that I am waiting. I am not a patient man, so please tell her to hurry."

Narcissa replied, "Yes, my Lord."

She steeled herself and opened the door. Looking down, she said, "You are wanted. He doesn't want to be kept waiting."

She spun and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

"_Tick tock goes the clock...it's time to go! You're very late, very late indeed!"_

Ginny pulled herself to her feet, confusion settling over her. She was in a small glade, the roughly concentric clearing surrounded by thick trees. Their leaves littered the ground: the wild grass was sprinkled with rubies, topaz, and emeralds. In the very centre lay a large rug: a intricate silver teapot lay in the middle steaming slightly. A mug in the same style lay to the side, glistening in the autumn sunlight. A piece of paper lay at her feet: she was surprised she hadn't already noticed it.

_Drink up! It's a special tea, just for you. I've brewed my special_ _tea, my special-i-tea. My specialty, and it's all for you! Pour yourself some now, before it gets cold!_

Ginny sat herself down upon the rug, taking the teapot and pouring herself a generous portion. She took a tentative sip, and found out that it was indeed very tasty! It was sweeter than she normally had it at home, but it soothed her aching body and mind. Since her first encounter with Riddle, every waking moment became a battle, a struggle to endure.

She paused, realising that Riddle wasn't making his usual comments, where was he?

Then it hit her: she was dreaming: the tea, the note, the disembodied voice: it was so surreal, she had to be dreaming!

"_I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out."_

He strode out from behind a tree, smiling in his usual, manic way. This time however, it seemed colder and more sinister than ever before.

"_I've made a new friend! Come on out!"_

It was an understatement to say that Ginny was shocked to see herself slide out gracefully from behind the same tree. Like Riddle, her features were slightly more exaggerated: her hair was longer, fuller and more red: almost the colour of blood. Self consciously, Ginny pulled her hair around to check it: it was still ginger, she seemed to keep her own appearance in her head too. Her doppelganger was fitted with the same manic grin as Riddle: her mascara had trickled down her cheeks in rivulets, and her lips matched her crimson hair. She looked wrong and utterly insane. It was how Ginny imagined herself if she snapped one day. Her double even wore Azkaban prisoner robes, that were strangely well fitting.

"Wh-what? How?"

Riddle sighed dramatically and poured himself a cup of tea. As he swirled his wand around in the cup absentmindedly, he explained.

"The trouble with the chamber, your breakup with Potter, your traumatic experiences with the Carrows at Hogwarts: Ginny, you were a walking time-bomb. All it took was a tiny, little murder to send you over the edge. You never even tried to heal from the chamber incident, you pushed it away, pretended you were strong. Even when you woke up in tears, images of the diary coursing through your head, you never asked for help and you never dealt with it."

He drank from his cup, the serenity of the action bizarre against the explanation of whatever was happening to her.

"In short, you were an idiot. Your mistakes have cost you dearly. I wouldn't worry though, you're not insane. Well, part of you isn't. You'll be able to go around, enjoying yourself, acting as normal...but your lovely double here will be ready to step in, whenever you lose control. That's when the fun begins."

"You bastard...I'll stop you!"

"Ok, I believe you. But first, you'll have to stop yourself!"

Cackling madly, he promptly vanished, his laughter resonating throughout the glade long after his departure.

For a long moment, Ginny stared into the mascara rimmed eyes of her double, contemplating the new development.

"So, what do I call you? I can't call you Ginny, I'm Ginny!"

The girl remained silent, idly twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. Even in such a tranquil state, she seemed dangerous. Ginny knew that she was capable of switching from a serene state to a murderous one in seconds: the thought managed to pierce through the fog of confusion surrounding her mind, making her wary of the familiar stranger before her. After a few moments of silence, she answered, swelling with anger and hatred.

"I don't need a name: I am an endless river, a shifting current. You are lost within my depths, dragged down by the cloying mud below my calm surface, clawing for air as my power rushes down your throat. My tide will embrace everything you are, everything you were, and everything you will be. You will dissolve under my assault and when I am done, I will be the one in control."

She instantly shifted; a raging inferno becoming a still lake.

"But that doesn't have to happen. Riddle has ensnared within his choking tendrils, they hold you so tightly, years after the chamber incident where he first trapped you. He can still manipulate you, still use you like you are the same eleven year old he tricked then. It will be a matter of weeks until you drown in my river, and I take over. You want to stop that, yes?"

"I want to stay in control, I have to! I've got so much to live for, you've got to help me!"

She snorted derisively, yet still wiped away Ginny's tears.

"I don't have to do anything, I could walk away now and you would be lost. I owe my existence to Riddle, but I also owe it to you: If I am to play your game of dominance, then I wish to do so on my terms. You need to heal to escape my storm. Deal with the emotions you have buried in the ground, soiled by his presence: start from the most recent and move backwards towards the source. Riddle will not make it easy for you, however. He will distract you, bully you, manipulate you. Why? He wants you to lose control: he wants you to lose yourself in my flow. I am his conduit, I cannot stop his influence if I hold your body. Bad things will happen: my storm will crash upon the world and there would be nothing I could do to stop it. I would be nothing but a madman telling the storm to cease. I cannot resist his will, for I am presence, smearing your memories is the reason I exist. Once you wake, my debt to you is finished. The next time we meet, I will not be so civil."

Ginny blinked dazedly. She was sick of dealing with madness, specifically the two psychotic presences that had invaded her head. The short conversation she had engaged in with her double had certainly labelled her as insane in her mind, yet Ginny could feel the truth in the words that flowed around the glade, reminding her that she had to make a stand, or succumb to Riddle's darkness..


	8. Chapter Seven: Synchysis

**Chapter Seven- Synchysis**

**-Confusion of meaning due to unusual arrangement-**

* * *

**Metric- Youth Without Youth**

_Hangman we played hide and seek on the fire escape_

_Through the smoke we saw the flame it was a long_

_Wait til the firetruck came. on the count of three_

_Jump with me on the count of three_

_1... 2... 1... 2... 3... GO!_

_Hangman we played blind man's bluff with the_

_9th Brigade throw the brick through the windowpane,_

_Double dutch til they stop the game, till the cops_

_Show up hand cuff stunned let us go but we_

_Lost one! Hangman we played blind man's_

_Bluff til they stopped the game Youth without_

_Youth born without time, Youth without_

_Youth, can you read my mind?_

* * *

Sirius thought it was an ordinary day at Hogwarts when he sat down at the Gryffindor table between Remus and James with Peter across from them. James insisted that Sirius lean forward so that he could glance at Lily down a few seats with her friends: Sirius agreed, and reached out for for a pitcher when a group of newcomers entered the hall and took their seats at the table. Except, it wasn't _their _seats because they weren't Gryffindors. They couldn't be, for they looked like seventh years as well and while the Marauders weren't known for their observational skills, he still thought he'd recognize them. One of the boys looked just like James, one of the other girls looked a bit like Lily (although, that could just have been the red hair), and the other girl looked pretty cute.

James had turned his attention away from Lily as well; he was staring at both of the redheads, (Sirius realised that there was a second redhead who was new- a boy) and the James-look-alike who were sitting next to each other. Remus was inspecting the foursome carefully, expression inscrutable. Peter looked slightly confused and nudged the boy next to him, whispering, rather loudly, "Who are they?"

The boy shrugged as Dumbledore stood up to speak to them. The chatter in the hall died down, starting with Gryffindor, for most of them had seen the newcomers and expected an announcement about their presence. Finally, only a few people were whispering and even they stopped talking once Dumbledore began his explanation.

"What a lovely day it has dawned to be," said Dumbledore, beaming at all of the students. "I am sure you all have noticed that there are some newcomers among us. They have been through a very trying ordeal: their school was destroyed in a Death Eater attack, two nights ago. The Ministry has taken them as their wards and sent them here to finish their last year of schooling. I would like you all to welcome, Ginevra and Ronald Weasely, Hermione Granger, and Harry Porter." There was a round of polite applause, led by Dumbledore. "The Ministry has ruled that they shall not be sorted into a house, so I would like all of you to make them feel at home." With that, he retook his seat.

Sirius exchanged a look with James and then turned to look at Remus and Peter who were glancing at their Transfiguration essay due in for Monday. "Guys, that can wait. Come on! Don't you want to meet the newcomers? We never get people in the middle of the year!"

They agreed, hastily shoved the work back into their bags and followed Sirius. There was already a small crowd around the four self-appointed Gryffindors and Lily was introducing herself when they got there. James faltered, face falling, before summoning his resolve and pushing through the surrounding students to wrap an arm around Lily. She pushed him away, irritably.

"Get away from me, Potter," she spat.

Sirius rolled his eyes upon seeing his friends predicament, pausing in confusion when he noticed the raven haired boy cringe at the name "Potter". Before he could contemplate the odd reaction further, he was distracted by an unwelcome group of students. He sighed loudly when he saw the Slytherins marching over. The newcomers flinched away and Sirius joined the Gryffindor's cheer when he noticed that all four of them were staring at him and Remus. Just then, James stumbled back to them, clutching his cheek and rubbing furiously at the bright red mark spreading across it. Sirius wasn't sure if he had been hit again, or if he was trying to hide his embarrassment. Knowing James and Lily's volatile relationship, it was probably both.

"She loves me. She just doesn't know it yet. Just look at her, don't you see it in her eyes?" Sirius turned to look at Lily who was chatting with the brown haired girl and rolled his eyes at his friend who was struggling for something to say, his cheek bright red.

Remus shook his head and pulled out his wand, waving it slightly and James brought his hand down, the mark fading from his skin. Sirius ignored his friends and, using James's method, pushed through everyone, especially rough with the Slytherins. He ended up beside Lily and in front of the four who were eying him, suspiciously.

"Sorry," he told Lily, "He gets...excited."

"Tell him to keep his hands to himself or he'll have worse than a bruised cheek."

Sirius nodded and turned to the new students. "Sirius Black." He held out his hand to the brown haired girl. "So... you single?" He couldn't resist asking: he had earned the nickname of "Casanova" for a reason, after all. He could almost hear James laughing at him, except that his friend was at the back of the crowd and couldn't hear him give into his desires.

Luckily for him, the girl blushed and answered. It would have been awkward if she had blanked him. "Single? I... I... yes."

The red haired boy scowled and Sirius nodded, taking note of his reaction. It didn't stop him from asking his next question, however. "Cool... I mean, me too. You wanna go to Hogsmeade sometime or something?"

The girl was about to respond- wasn't her name Hermione?- when a Slytherin girl hurried over and threw her arms around the boy who was pointedly looking away.

"Oh! You came back!" she crowed at him. "I knew you would."

"Err..." He pulled away in a way that reminded Sirius of James and Lily with genders reversed. "I've never seen you before."

She put her hands over her heart and let out a breath in such a way that Sirius was just glad that Prongs had never gotten that sappy. "It must have been a dream, then. I saw you in a dream. But then, how did I get your scarf? Oh, it must be fate willing us together!"

The brown haired girl laughed and turned back to him. "Oh, yeah, I'm free."

Ron was horrified. He couldn't believe that the girl remembered him. He had always thought that she would have forgotten him, or at least have moved on. No such luck. He glanced at his friends for help, eyes pleading with them. Harry chuckled, and shook his head. Ginny raised her eyebrow at him, in a way that he knew to say, "And why should I help you?" Hermione mouthed at him, "You need to learn how to handle it yourself." Knowing that he wasn't going to get any help, he tried to gently pry the girl from his arm.

"I, uh, think you might have mistaken me for someone else."

"No, no, no," she shook her head rapidly, "I never I never forget a face, especially The One's."

"The one?"

"Oh yes, The One. My one true love." She kissed him on the cheek.

Laughter broke out from the students around them.

"I have no idea who you are, what I do know is that you are not my true love." He shoved her off of him.

Elizabeth looked at him with tears in her eyes. "But you are, I'll prove it." She ran off.

Hermione looked at him disapprovingly. "You are so insensitive, Ronald."

Harry's dad-James, Ron thought to himself with a mental slap- patted him on the back. "And already the new kid has to deal with Elizabeth."

A few kids around them laughed and some of the boys straightened their shirts, looking back at her as she sulked.

"Don't worry," James added, lower. "She does it to everyone. No one knows how Vera has stuck with her so long. Her friend," he gestured to the blonde girl who was comforting Elizabeth. "She's not half bad... for a Slytherin. You'll soon realize that Slytherins are to be avoided. Just stick with us Gryffindors. James Potter, here. That's Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Harry, grinning widely.

The Marauders had pushed through the crowd and had ended up beside each other. They exchanged looks and shrugged. "I wouldn't say a pleasure per se," James smirked. "But call it what you wish."

* * *

Hermione was utterly confused: why had she agreed to go with Sirius anyway? It was an idiotic thing to do, and she cursed herself for giving into the selfish impulse. It was hypocritical of her to go with Sirius when she was stopping Harry from changing key things such as his parent's deaths. Then again, she wasn't really changing anything- one date wouldn't change the reality she knew. Coming to that resolution, she still paced around their quarters: it was a method she had used since she was very young to calm herself down when she was stressed. She would have walked around the Quidditch pitch a few times during her OWLs if she could have from all of the exam tension: mixed emotions of fear and the sickening doubt that consumed her when she thought back over her answers. She couldn't count the number of times Harry and Ron had told her to stop checking her revision notes so that she could calm down but she never listened and the vicious cycle started again, as repetitive as the route she took around their small living room.

Hermione jumped as she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She spun around, only to find that it was Ron. She sighed in relief, only to take several steps back when she saw the expression on his face.

"And what the bloody hell was that?"

She put her hands on her hips and glared back at him. "What do mean? What's it to you if I got asked out? You're acting like the Yule Ball all over again."

"But... during the Final Battle and..." Ron struggled to find the words to express the emotions boiling inside of him.

"I answered his questions honestly. I'm single and I'd be glad to be asked to Hogsmeade. Oh, but I'm sure that Elizabeth would love to go with you if you're that desperate."

"I'm not... maybe I'll ask Lily."

Hermione snorted. "What makes you think she likes you? And besides, Harry would have a fit."

"You're going out with his godfather!"

"And you're an insensitive brat. I thought we'd settled this." She stared back at him calmly and he threw his hands up and stomped out.

She took an odd pleasure in that, watching him leave and knowing that she got the best of him. This time she wouldn't be the one crying, because someone liked her, someone besides Viktor who couldn't even pronounce her name. She won. That was when Ginny came in, squinting in the light.

"You okay?"

Ginny jumped backwards. "Fine!" She blinked and looked at Hermione as if she had just seen her for the first time. "Oh... hi, Hermione. I... I just have a headache."

Hermione watched her make her way up to their bedroom and frowned before leaving the room and deliberately turning the opposite direction of Ron.

* * *

Harry sat out at the lake, with his arms wrapped around his knees, staring at nothing. Everything seemed so similar to his time at the school: there were so few major changes. Mainly it was the students and teachers who were different: the school itself still felt and looked the same. Even all of the paintings were in the original positions. He had spent the day wandering the school trying to find something different, but there was nothing. If he hadn't already seen the proof that he was in the past, and the castle hadn't been in ruins before he had left, he wouldn't have believed it. This was the first time he had started to feel homesick. He was at Hogwarts, the place that was his home for so many years, but it wasn't his Hogwarts. He felt a great longing to return to his time, to help rebuild his Hogwarts and return it to its former glory. The glory that it stood in behind him.

Suddenly his thoughts shifted, and the homesickness went away. He really did have the chance to stop Hogwarts from ever falling, to stop the war from killing everyone. His parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Dumbledore, and even Snape. All he needed to do was tell them the truth, tell them what was going to happen, and he would set forth events that would save them all, and so many more.

He stood determinedly. He knew what he had to do. First things first, he had to have a small talk with Hermione. That's what he was thinking when he spotted Lily sitting on a bench alone, reading a textbook. He knew that he shouldn't go over- he shouldn't even be the same age as his mother- but he did.

She looked up from her book, eyes clouded as she glared at him, hostile. Then she realized it was Harry and smiled, moving her bag to the ground and gesturing to the seat beside her. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else. You look a lot like James, has anyone ever told you that?"

Harry decided that the truth that 'yes, everyone he'd ever met had told him he looked like James' wouldn't be quite acceptable right then. And besides all that, he was still not completely comfortable with the fact that he was talking to his mum and she was his age- and that she was kind of pretty. Well, for being his mum... but she was his age and... he shook his head to clear his thoughts and she took that as his answer.

"But I'm sure you're not as arrogant as him. You seem much nicer."

Harry blushed and Lily smiled at him, reaching up to brush some snow out of his hair. She noticed his scar, however, and stared at it, curiously.

"What's this?"

"Oh." Harry let his bangs hide it again. "Just a scar."

"It's very handsome." She blushed. "And you have very nice eyes."

Harry let out a small laugh but disguised it with a cough. "Oh, thanks. You do, too."

She blushed and Harry cursed himself. She didn't need anymore evidence to link them together. Especially because he had to look just like his dad and have such a similar last name. He turned around, briefly to see someone staring back at him, someone who was a bit too familiar. A boy with greasy black hair and a pointed look of hatred at the two of them.

Severus Snape stalked through the corridors of the school. First it was only those bloody Marauders, now there were for new students who were just like them. Attention seeking brats. He sneered, not only that, but there was one who looked too much like Potter and he was after Lily as well.

He froze as he glanced out the window. His eyes looked on Lily, and the boy sitting next to her. He looked like Potter, but Severus was certain that Lily would not smile at Potter like that: so it could only mean one thing. _Porter._

He knew it, he was just another mindless idiot out to take Lily away from him. Snape turned away from the window, that could not be allowed. Lily was his, even if she didn't seem to know it. He would show her. He'd let this Porter boy, who was almost certainly as arrogant as James- all Gryffindors were the same inside, know that he couldn't have Lily.

Lily turned around as he crept up and gave him a look that made his stomach turn and he was starting to really regret coming. Porter turned as well and widened his eyes, whipping around, worriedly.

"Lily, I..." Severus didn't trust his own voice.

"Not you, too, _Snape._ Can't you just leave me alone when I'm happy."

"But he's..." Severus struggled for the words. "He's... a _Gryffindor._"

"Nice observation," Lily returned, coldly. "And what house do you think I'm in? Also, Harry here is not in any house, or weren't you listening to what Dumbledore had said this morning?"

"Lily! Please..."

"You're no better than Potter. You think you are but you're not. You're both the same."

"No! He's... and I'm..."

"Leave me alone, Snape. I can't deal with you."

He reluctantly retreated, mad at himself. Why couldn't he talk to Lily and get her to understand that he cared for her and that he was better for her than Potter. Or Porter, while on that note. But she waved him off, irritated and he left. He knew he would get his revenge on both Potter and Porter. Lily will be his.

Lily turned back to Harry. "What were we saying?"

"Your eyes."

She blushes and picks up her textbook and so they slip into a comfortable silence. Harry thinks it's a near perfect to be with his Mum. Her reading and him sitting there. She was tapping her foot against the ground angrily and he was cursing himself for bringing up the eyes thing but still. Close enough.

* * *

Ginny lay on her bed staring up at the canopy overhead. Her mind puzzling over everything that has happened in the past couple months. Months: it had been just over two months since they had arrived in the past. It only felt like a couple weeks at best, everything had just happened so fast. First the war had ended, and everything was going to work out, then suddenly she had found herself stuck in the past, with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Everything just went downhill from there. One thing after another, until she had found herself here. Here, with the knowledge that she had a piece of Tom Marvolo Riddle in her head, and a psycho alter-ego that was willing to do whatever he says. Damn him.

He seemed to take that as his signal to enter and let out a snort.

"Having a little trouble?"

"Riddle."

"You were expecting, maybe, Fenrir Greyback?"

"Wait, what? No! Just piss off and leave me alone, yeah?"

"Somebody's cranky today. Here I was, thinking that my presence as a parasite inside your head was a new stage in our relationship. I was overjoyed when I realised I had a hotwire straight to your head: I could talk to my best friend in the whole world whenever I wanted."

He groaned, the same mocking tone that had permeated his previous words lacing those of his next point.

"Then you started to get difficult. You were terrified! Tell me, Ginny, what are you really scared of? Failing to save this cesspool of a world? Not getting rid of me in time? Me, in a thong?"

"Riddle! Please don't even go there! I don't want to think about you in a thon- Oh, shoot. Now I'm envisioning it. Yes! Yes. I'm scared of you in a thong but I don't think that's the point." She took a deep breath. "My friends... they're always fighting. And well, with each other, obviously. But I mean with... with _your_ bloody Death Eaters."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that I'm doing a very good job of leading them from inside your head. They're not _my _Death Eaters."

"Well, maybe not technically _now_."

"Let's keep the conversation flowing: what are you going to do? Can't you feel the alternate you scraping away, begging to take over? I want you to stop me, I really do. The thing is, do you want to stop me? Killing is nothing but a choice, and you made the choice to kill. Not me, you. How does that make you feel?"

"It's not my fault... you can't blame this all on me. The killing... I had no choice. Oh, don't look at me like that. I didn't. _I _didn't want to be the one killed. And besides, if you're stopped then you can't talk to your, as you put it, 'best friend in the whole world' which, strangely enough, happens to be a teenage girl whose mind you have infiltrated."

Riddle giggled.

"You have _nothing_ to threaten me with. _Nothing_, with all your fiery personality! I'm going to explain: you are nothing but a lie, Ginny Weasley. The people who say that they love you- they have fallen for an elaborate facade. Your passion, your confidence, your headstrong nature, don't you see? It's fabricated to cover up the truth: beneath your web of lies, you are just a damaged little girl, lost in a world that is darker than you ever imagined. How does it feel, knowing that you are a bad joke that nobody gets but me?"

Ginny snorted, "Well if all I am is an elaborate facade then you are nothing at all not even an illusion. You who was too afraid of death and collected trinkets to make yourself immortal. You who couldn't even stand your own name so you changed it. You who never had a real friend, you who are only a fragment of what you used to be. Yes, Tom Riddle, you are nothing."

"I'm a man of simple tastes: I like killing people with two words, I like ordering people to do whatever I want them to, I like women with large breasts. That's not all though: I like being able to live forever, I like my new name, I have to admit that you're starting to stick on me, but really, who needs friends when you have ultimate power? Besides, Bellatrix was my friend."

He laughed once again.

"None of what you said disproves my points: you _are_ weak and, deep down in your broken little heart, you _know_ it. It really won't be long until you're stuck in here with me, ignoring the wonderful advice your double gave you. Time to make a choice: change and be rid of me forever, or doom yourself to an eternity with me. I know which option I'm rooting for!"

"Riddle," Ginny thought, her patience wearing thin, "you've always got a twist planned: I don't trust you to give up quietly. You're going to somehow slip away and come back, but I'll be there to stop you."

She felt Riddle's laughter once again, the high pitched cackling ringing in her head.

"I think we both know how this is going to end: you're going to stop me, you can't help yourself, being such a goody two-shoes and all. You know, I sometimes wonder if this is going to end with one of us staring at the other's lifeless body, at a loss for what to do next. You know I'll find a way back, even if you do avoid my little doppelganger. The wizarding world deserves a better class of Dark Wizard: Voldemort is weak, pathetic: he lost to a schoolboy, for christ sake. I'm going to cut the wizarding world into tiny little pieces: they're going to fight like rabid dogs and the gutters will be filled with blood. Don't you see? It's all about sending a message! I don't care about a person's blood, class or magical skill anymore- I just want to see the world burn! Why the change in my outlook? Well, let's just say I've had a lot of _time_ to figure it out."

Ginny knew that she had to really examine herself, delve deep into her memories: she could not allow the fragment of Riddle to enact whatever plan that he had spent the years trapped within her mind concocting. It would be hard, it would hurt, but it had to be done.

She swore to herself that she wouldn't let Riddle win!


	9. Chapter Eight: Succiduous

_A/N: Hey everyone, I just wanted to give you a little insight as to what will be happening for the next few chapters, so that you will understand it better. Each chapter will take place spanning a month until the ending of the school year. So this chapter is November, everything in it is happening in November, and not necessarily all on the same day or even the same week. This is just to clear anything that may come up. Thank you. - The Seventh Horcrux, Scar_

* * *

**Chapter Eight- Succiduous**

**- ready to fall; in the process of falling; tottering -**

* * *

**Metric- Blindness**

_Send us a blindfold, send us a blade_

_Tell the survivors help is on the way_

_I was a blindfold, never complained_

_All the survivors singing in the rain_

_I was the one with the world at my feet_

_Got us a battle, leave it up to me_

_Find us a trapdoor, find us a plane_

_Tell the survivors help is on the way_

_I was a blindfold, never complained_

_All the survivors singing in the rain_

_I was the one with the world at my feet_

_Got us a battle, leave it up to me_

_What it is and where it stops nobody knows_

_You gave me a life I never chose_

_I wanna leave but the world won't let me go_

_Wanna leave but the world won't let me go_

* * *

The Ministry of Magic had not changed much in the many years since it had been built. The walls were constructed of the same black tiles, a uniform feature throughout the ministry. The fountain in the atrium continued to bubble away, gallons of water crashing into the basin every day. In reality though, it was the people who never changed. Despite humanity's belief that everyone was unique, that everyone was special, the ministry was still flooded with a group of persistent archetypes that had remained a constant presence throughout the centuries of its existence. There was the worker, stuck upon the lower rungs of the career ladder, willing to do anything to get their promotion, even if it meant betraying their co-workers. Above them sat the heads of each department. They retained the ambition of their previous posts, yet used it to halt the progress of their staff, desperate to maintain control. With their weight in the ministry however, they also vied for dominance over political matters. Initiates to the ministry were often informed that being promoted to a department head was more of a curse than a gift: one would be attacked from all sides. Above even the power hungry heads, resided the imperious Minister for Magic and their sycophantic underlings. It was hard not to feel like royalty when one's staff complimented how the wizarding world was run at every opportunity. They were only searching for the Minister's favour, but it was enough to give the ruling politician enough arrogance that they blindly stumbled into the traps set by their opposition.

'The Ministry,' Lucius Malfoy thought to himself as he strode through the atrium, 'was a den of corruption, greed and betrayal.'

While the politicians played their power games, England was crumbling and decaying: the mudbloods, the squibs and the blood traitors were infiltrating every aspect of Wizarding life. Lucius was sick of the infestation, but could do little to stop it. The current minister was not proving particularly charitable to his suggestions, even after a large donation to St. Mungos.

Though, none of that was of his concern that day. He had other business to attend to, more important business. He had been ordered to research the four mysterious survivors of the school attack, and what better place to do so than the department of magical records?

* * *

It had been over a week since they had returned to Hogwarts. Things were just starting to become routine for them there in the past. Ginny had almost gotten used to seeing people that she had known many years from now at her age. Hogwarts seemed a lot more untouched than it did her time, most of the students were able to easily pretend that nothing was wrong outside of the school, having not experienced the horrors of war themselves. It was easy to pick out the ones that had, they had the same haunted looks that she did, and that she has seen in Harry, Ron and Hermione's eyes many times.

One thing that had surprised her the most over the past week, was that she hadn't heard much from Riddle. She knew that it was nothing of her doing, and she was afraid of what it might mean for her. He had to be planning something. There was nothing else that it could be. Whatever it was, though, it was not going to be good for her. Despite her every effort not to, she started to relax, the feeling of being the only one her brain was nice, and something that she had been longing for since the discovery of Riddle's fragment.

Despite her misgivings however, her week had been pleasant. She was actually in a very good mood. Then- as if a malevolent legilimens hearing her particularly happy thoughts had sent him to ruin her day- Peter Pettigrew rounded the corner. She swiftly sat down upon a window ledge and hoped he would walk by.

He didn't.

"Hey, Ginny." greeted the man who betrayed Harry's parents and left him orphaned.

"Hi." she replied shortly, hoping that the awkward silence would drive him away.

It didn't.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting."

"Yeah? Just, ah, admiring the view huh?"

"Uh-huh."

Despite her generic, monotone responses, Pettigrew still didn't take the hint that he wasn't wanted. Ginny felt her anger rising and with it came the high pitched giggles of the fragment trapped inside of her.

"So, how are you finding Hogwarts?"

She sighed heavily: the boy was being conversational and friendly, but Ginny wished it was anybody but him. She couldn't tear her mind away from his role in their time.

"Look, Peter, thanks for taking the time to talk to me, but I'm not in the mood to chat right now."

She hoped that it would be enough to make him leave.

It wasn't.

She turned around after five minutes of silence and saw him leaning against the wall reading a textbook.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you said you didn't want to talk, so I thought that I'd keep you company. Is that ok?"

She tried to be nice once again, but her anger was threatening to spill out. She couldn't stop a small amount of the biting irritation lace her tone.

"Peter, I appreciate the company, but I want to be alone right now. I've got a lot on my mind."

Silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny felt something snap inside her, a dam crumble that was holding a river of rage from spilling across into her body. She gasped, the liquid fire seeping into every fiber of her being. Then she was falling, tumbling into an inky blackness that tore at her, ripping her apart. Before darkness claimed her, she only had time for a singular, coherent thought as she realised what was happening.

"Oh, shit!"

* * *

The other Ginny, the one that constantly lapped at the edge of her double's consciousness, got to her feet jerkily; she struggled to control the body she resided in, the weight of it causing her movements to seem slightly sluggish. The heaviness contrasted sharply with her usual form, an ethereal ghost-like entity that could fly effortlessly through Ginny's mindspace. Her control over Ginny's body was a surreal, exhilarating experience.

What had allowed her access to Ginny's body? The other Ginny pondered, searching through the misty memories of the previous host. Rage had been the key that had unlocked the cage, setting her free. The uncharacteristic anger had been directed at the man before her. The other Ginny could certainly understand why.

He possessed an earnest yet slightly simpering expression that was reminiscent of the average wizard that frequented the magical world; she suspected that the man was indeed average in magical power and ability. The other Ginny knew that the man was of little consequence, he would do little to shape or change anything with his lack of magical prowess. She doubted that he would ever reach the higher paying jobs either: he was broad shouldered, yet slightly overweight- he had the build that spoke of an inherent laziness. The man could easily have been muscular and toned, the rolls of fat underneath his school shirt revealed that he did little to improve his condition, however. The fact that he had no desire to improve his pitiful state implied that he had a low work ethic too.

Other than the fact that the man before her was a disgusting creature, the other Ginny wondered why her double had allowed herself to be enraged by his presence: she herself would never allow such a lowlife to disturb her.

Then the memories flooded into her: the man- Peter Pettigrew- was the future betrayer of Harry Potter's parents. Ginny had a strange affection for the bespectacled boy, and obviously Pettigrew's impact on Potter's life had resulted in a low tolerance of Pettigrew's presence.

Seeing the cowardly, broken man Pettigrew would become, the other Ginny realised that her original assessment had been incorrect. While Pettigrew was a moron and a snivelling coward, he possessed an uncanny desire for self-preservation and was as ambitious as the finest Slytherin. Combined with his predilection for powerful people and the rat would have matched the most cunning politicians, had he not descended into the depths of darkness.

The other Ginny was in control and she wondered what to do. She held the power to change everything in her hands, she could kill Pettigrew, torture him, or just walk away and ignore the rat. Or, she thought to herself, she could rock the boat and create chaos, just as her Master wanted. She would not be pushing Pettigrew towards a particular side, merely causing a period of introspection. Indeed, once she was done with Pettigrew he would need to assess everything about his life and exactly who he was.

* * *

Hermione walked into their shared common room with a dreamy smile on her face, for she had just came back from a date with Sirius Black. Ron was well aware of that fact; so he had shot her a dirty look from the moment she climbed through the portrait hole and had been glaring at her ever since.

"How'd it go?" Ron asked her through gritted teeth as she buoyantly took the armchair across from his.

"It went, great, thanks for asking." Hermione's dreamy smile turned it to something of a smirk.

Ron gritted his teeth even more. Hermione thought for a second that if he did any more of that, he wouldn't have any more teeth.

Hermione and Ron stared at each other for what felt like hours- but was in reality, minutes- before Hermione turned and began to walk out the door.

"It's wrong, you know," Ron said to her back. .

Hermione turned back, a questioning look in her eyes. "Why? I know Sirius, he won't hurt me. Or at least he won't try too and I'll know that."

Ron shook his head and answered. "You'll hurt him. And he won't know why."

Hermione bit her lip before she left Ron standing in the empty common room.

* * *

Ginny leaned against the wall, eyes staring at nothing. Her mind was frozen over what had happened. As soon as she had regained control of her body Pettigrew was long gone, but that didn't matter. What mattered is what she saw her other half do, trapped inside and able to stop it. If she hadn't known what Pettigrew would do in the future, what he would become, she would have felt sorry for him. A small part of her, a part that wasn't quite the other Ginny, felt that he deserved everything. The rest of her, started to wonder if there wasn't a reason as to why Pettigrew had become what he had.

"So, the alternate you has quite a tongue on her! I haven't seen anybody cry like that since...well, I wouldn't want to spoil things for you."

"Shut up, won't you? I don't really feel like listening to you talk about things I'd rather forget."

"You could always obliviate yourself. That might be fun."

"It says something that I'm actually considering it. At least I would forget about you. Though probably not knowing my luck, and all I would know is your voice."

Riddle laughed loudly.

"Wouldn't that just be a dream? You should do it, forget everything! Life would be simpler. Besides, obliviating yourself would get rid of me and the other you, too."

Ginny bit her lip. Even though she had been sarcastic to Riddle, the thought of not hearing him, not bringing out her other self, it actually sounded very nice. She wouldn't have to remember the war, she would forget her life, but then again, would she really miss something that she couldn't even remember, never even knew?

Riddle laughed even louder.

"Ok, so I lied about me disappearing. I just wanted to see if you'd do it! But no, you're just too _boring_! Still, I'd be good company to a memory-less you: hey, you might even like me if you didn't have those memories of me being evil. Maybe."

"Leave me alone!" yelled Ginny. She started to force him out of her mind. She had enough of his constant chatter. His making her do things. Of all of it.

"Oh, boo hoo. You're making me cry! Can you see those tears? Look at the- oh wait, you can't see me. Well, that fell flat."

He snarled, before cackling madly..

"Oh, oh, oh! Look who learned a new trick! You can't force me out completely, but I know when I'm not wanted."

With that, he left. Ginny felt light headed- she had been used to his presence, even if the fragment was incredibly annoying. The damage had been done however- her lack of desire to address the repressed memories had resulted in an attack on Pettigrew. She had to start examining herself, delving into the horrific memories if she wanted to remain in control. Ginny straightened herself and started to make her way to the Room of Requirement, a newfound determination nestled within her heart.

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry turned to see Lily, running to catch up with him. He smiled, every time he saw his mother, he felt as though something for once was right in his life. Even though he was stuck in the past, just being with her and getting to know her was something that he had long needed.

"Hi Lily."

Lily returned his smile when she caught. "I was wondering if you would like to go out with me?"

Harry spluttered, "What? As in on a date?"

Lily's smile fell, and a crestfallen look came on her face. "If you don't want too, that's fine. I'll just go."

"No, Lily wait!" Harry grabbed her wrist so that she wouldn't leave. His mind buzzed as he tried to find the words to explain to her why he wouldn't...why he couldn't go out with her. "It's not that I don't like you. You're a wonderful person. It's just...it's just..." He trailed off not knowing what to say.

Understanding dawned in Lily's eyes, "It's just that you only see me as a friend. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume."

"What about James?"

"What about him?" asked Lily, her voice and expression suddenly fiery.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, knowing he had made a blunder.

Her eyes narrowed, "Did you know that when you do that it makes you appear more like James?"

He looked at her blankly, his mind still trying to find a way out of this mess. "It does?"

Her expression softened, slightly, "Only a little. I still want to know what you mean about James?"

Harry sighed, there was nothing for it. "James...well James, seems to have grown up a lot from what you told me about how he used to be. He seems like a pretty nice guy, and," he gulped, fearing what his next words will do, "And I think that you would be good together." He closed his eyes, and took several quick steps back. After a moment when he felt no curses flying his way, he opened his eyes again.

Lily was staring at him with a calculating expression in her eyes. "One date, but you will be coming too, and you can bring one of your charming girlfriends." With that she left, leaving a stunned Harry, who was still trying to understand what had just happened.

* * *

Neither Lily nor Harry noticed Severus Snape glaring at them from behind a tapestry, though they would both admit feeling as though someone had been watching them upon leaving.

Severus glared at Porter as he walked. While Severus had never really been _threatened_ by Potter, he still hated the attention Potter gave Lily. What had always threatened him was the fact that it reminded him Lily might leave. That she would find someone who she actually deserved.

And it looked like Porter might be that guy. Severus was loath to admit it, but it was true. Porter looked like an honestly decent guy, despite the fact that he could pass for the almost identical twin of a not so decent guy. The best part was though, Porter didn't want her.

He wanted her with Potter. Severus wasn't going to let that happen.

His hatred of Porter went beyond his hatred of Potter. Wasn't it bad enough that Potter was Mr. Perfect. Porter had to come along, and have all of Potter's good qualities and none of the bad. It didn't matter what he said he wanted, Porter was after Lily, and Snape knew it.

Lily was going to be his, and there was nothing that Potter or Porter would be able to do about it, and if they got in his way they would wish that they had never heard the name Lily Evans.

* * *

"I want to talk about Fred."

"What?" Ron spluttered, his drink falling to the floor. The juice splattered against his shoes and trousers, but he didn't care. Ginny never wanted to talk about the bad times, always wanting to focus on the good. Ron saw it as optimism, Hermione saw it as denial. Still, even with Hermione's and his Mother's dogged attempts to get her to open up, she never did. She had been slightly closed off ever since her incarceration in the Chamber of Secrets. Ron wondered why she was finally opening up and why she had chosen him of all people to talk about it with.

"Why me? Wouldn't Hermione be better at this kind of thing? Or Harry? He's lost people before, his parents, Sirius."

Ginny glared at him, but it was laced with soft, sad, affection.

"You're my brother, you prat. So was Fred. I thought we could talk about him, Mum, Dad and all the other Weasleys we've left behind. I miss them: we've been so caught up in the affairs of the people of this time, that we've forgotten the people in our own."

"Yeah," Ron said, fighting the grief rising within him: he'd not only lost Fred, he'd lost his entire family, par Ginny. He'd never had time to think about it, worrying about Harry's parents, Voldemort's growing power and the weird Parkinson girl that followed him around.

"I miss them so much!" he admitted after a few moments.

"Yeah, me too." Ginny agreed, her eyes filling with tears.

Ron looked away from her, ashamed of the tears sliding down his face.

"I-I wonder what my jumper would have been this year, if we hadn't been thrown into another mad adventure. Do you reckon she would've given me another maroon one? Mum always forgets that I don't like that colour."

"Yeah, it does clash rather horribly! Sometimes it's a pain having ginger hair: it must be a Weasley curse!"

"Or," Ron said contemplatively, "A Weasley blessing. It shows that we're Weasleys, and really, there's nothing I'm prouder of.

* * *

Hermione felt the happiest she had since she had arrived in the past. Everything felt normal. She knew that nothing was normal, being thrown twenty-one years into the past far from normal. She couldn't remember the last time that anything was normal, though. She was positive that it had been when she was a child, before going to Hogwarts: but even then nothing had been truly normal, not with all her accidental magic. Being best friends with Harry didn't really help matters. It was one unusual thing after another. That wasn't what was important, what was important was that for once in her life she could relax and be normal.

After a few days, nearly everyone had gotten used to the arrival of her and her friends, and now they were acting as though the four of them had been there for years. Despite her misgivings, she rather found that she liked the Marauders. She was certain that so long as they didn't give away anything about the future, that nothing would change. At least, that was what she hoped, it wasn't as though they had a choice about being there, she was just trying to make the best of it. For now that was just normal, which wasn't as hard as she thought, and going out with Sirius.

Sirius. She was confused over her feelings for him, she knew what kind of person he was going to be, she also knew that there was no way that it could last. She was scared of letting it go though, it was one of the few things that made her feel normal in such an abnormal situation: she also didn't want hurt to Sirius. He had enough hardships in his life- indeed, he would have more if they didn't change anything.

Then there were her feelings for Ron. She knew she was in love with him, she had at least suspected it for several months now. It had been confirmed when she found herself fighting for life and death in the final battle and she knew, that if there was one person who died that she could not live without it was Ron. Their relationship had been building up so well over the months after his return to them and into the final battle. Since they came into the past, all of them had felt so lost, and relationships fell. Even after everything had settled down, Ron still made no effort to reform a relationship with her. She knew that part of her was using Sirius to make Ron jealous, so that he would retake the initiative, just like she had with McLaggan. Only this time, she did care if she hurt who she was dating.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head and trying to clear it. It was a mess, and there was no clear way out of it. For the first time in her life she found herself with a problem that she didn't even know how to begin to solve. This was not the time for that now, she was on her way to catch up with Sirius.

She turned a corner and froze. That was Sirius at the end of the hall, but the girl he was kissing was most certainly not her.

Eyes wide, she backed up until she had returned to the previous hallway. She leaned against the wall. Her mind had stopped moving, frozen in shock.

She had been so focussed on Ron and the kind of person that she knew Sirius would become that she had forgotten one important fact. He was still a teenage boy, unaffected by the horrors of war. She groaned, this was a mess, but at least now she had clear way out. Determinedly, she straightened up, and stood tall. She knew exactly what she was going to do.

She dropped her book bag and made a little more noise, than she had last time, before returning into the other hall. Sirius was now alone at leaning against the wall, as though he owned the world. When he saw how it was he grinned widely, "Hermione!"

Without a word she marched down the hallway. As soon as she was close enough, she pulled back her fist and rammed it straight into his face. The whole scene reminded her of when she hit Malfoy in third year, accept the fact the they weren't dating. "We're over!"

With that she spun on her heels, leaving a stunned Black behind. As soon as she was out of sight again, the shock completely worn off, and tears started to slide down her face. She ran into someone. Looking up she realized it was Harry. He was looking at her worriedly. He pulled her into a comforting hug.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Si...Sir...Sirius!"

"Oh," was all he said, before he tightened his hug. "You were too good for him anyway."

Hermione choked out a laugh, "But..."

Harry just shook his head, "Even then. Come on, let's go tell Ron. Maybe he will pull his head out his arse and ask you out again."

Hermione smiled brightly, suddenly the day wasn't so bad after all.


	10. Chapter Nine: Scandent

_A/N: Just here to say, quickly, that we've had a change of collaborators. A Phoenix From the Ashes and owluvr had to leave because of other priorities and we've replaced (okay, that sounds rather cruel... whatever) owluvr with Black Rose Blue and we're searching for a seventh collaborator currently. So... if you're interested... Just throwing that suggestion out there._

_~ Locket_

* * *

**Chapter Nine- Scandent**

**- Climbing -**

* * *

**Metric- Waves**

_When I'm gone_

_I'll know what I've done_

_I'll go where I don't belong_

_It's all, not one_

_I love everything_

_No sleep; I lose everything_

_Oh don't tell me again_

_I won't see you again_

_Not one_

_I love everything_

_No sleep; I lose everything_

_Oh, don't tell me again_

_I won't see you again_

_Saw the waves, but not the tide_

_I couldn't stay, I don't know why_

_A sailor married to the sea_

_My luck is a lost key_

* * *

James didn't really like Porter. Porter seemed like a nice guy, and was dashingly handsome, but he hated how Lily seemed so in love with Porter, and not at all with him when James didn't really see any difference at all.

Then Porter managed to get him a date with Lily. It was a double date with Porter and his girlfriend, the redhead who actually bore a certain resemblance to Lily (Jenny, wasn't it?), but it was better than anything James had ever gotten before. It looked like Sirius was going to have major competition for the title of James' best friend.

Speaking of Sirius, it took all of James' willpower not to kill him here and now.

"So she just ran right up to him, hit me across the face with her school bag, told me it's over, those were her exact words, 'It's over', and then turned around and walked away." Sirius paused to take a breath, not noticing Remus reading a book, James working on a paper, and Peter playing chess by himself, all ignoring him, or trying to at least. Sirius ignored their ignoring. "What the bloody hell did I _do_to piss her off so much?" Sirius paused again before he continued. "It was actually pretty hot."

Not wanting to hear anymore things that made him worry about Sirius, James decided to spill the beans. He hadn't wanted to tell his friends about the date for three reasons. The first had been for the simple fact that he knew that they wouldn't believe him. The second had been if they did, they would have tried to talk him out of it, try to convince him it was a bad idea. The third was James didn't want to let them know if it didn't work out. He didn't want to see their looks of pity and the voices that would basically be saying ' I told you so' under the comfort.

Now though, he just wanted Sirius to shut up, so he talked.

"I'm going out with Lily tonight." James had to admire himself. He said that casually. Almost too casually, as none of the Marauder's realized what he had said until they had nodded their heads and made little remarks that very similar to other little remarks they had made in the past. It made James doubt that they even listened to him half the time. But almost simultaneously, they raised their heads in a very comical way. Peter's eyes were almost falling out of his head, Sirius' mouth was almost touching the floor, and Remus said "What" in that voice that everyone got when they were so surprised, they couldn't even act it.

"Yes, Porter got her to go on a date with me. She says that she wants to double date with him, but honestly I'm just glad for the fact that we're going to be going on something that could be considered a date."

"So it's a double date with you and Lily, and Porter and somebody else? Who is the somebody? It better not be Hermione." Sirius' face got a very scary shade of dark as he said this.

James shook his head. "No, it's the redhead, Jenny."

"Ginny." Remus corrected automatically. At seeing everyone stare at him, Remus got on the defensive and said, "She helps me with my homework sometimes. She knows a lot about Defense."

"I don't like her," added Peter. "She scares me." Sirius gave a bark of a laughter at this statement, James gave a slight chuckle, and even Remus had a hard time fighting his smile.

"She _does_," Peter stressed. James had to give Peter credit. He was utterly fearless in admitting his fear. "She's really mean to me, and she knows spells that she shouldn't. There's probably a reason why she's so good at Defense, Remus, she knows the Darks Arts and what spells would destroy hers. If I were you James, I would talk to Porter on this double date. Warn him."

Sirius, Remus, and James looked at each other before they burst into laughter. Finally, Sirius calmed down enough to to start teasing Peter.

"You get scared at _everything,_ Peter. You get scared of _Nargles_."

James looked at Sirius. "Nargles? What the hell are those?"

"Something that Xeno talks about," Sirius answered.

"Xeno? I think he's like my third cousin twice removed."

"Xeno's marrying Melissa, you know."

"Who's Melissa?" Peter chimed in.

"My cousin," Remus said.

"Yep," James smirked. "Me and Moony are about to be cousins!"

For the rest of the night, James, Sirius, and Peter tried to figure out why Remus groaned upon James' declaration.

* * *

"Hermione?"

"Go away, Ronald. I don't want to talk to you."

He couldn't deny that she looked a mess: her hair hung loose, the brown mass splaying out across her back, her back was hunched and she was shaking. Her eyes glowed brightly with her tears, the fallen drops glistening like rare jewels upon her cheeks. The small amount of mascara she wore had also fallen across her face, the faded black lines contrasting sharply against her skin. She looked untidy, unkempt, rough- but to Ron, she had never looked more beautiful.

For the first time since they had returned to the past, he truly looked at her: she was still Hermione. The insecure, knowledgeable, gorgeous girl that he had fallen for.

After coming to that realisation, he felt pain: it hurt to see her so upset. Normally he would have snapped at her, started a fight, but his talk with Ginny had made him realise the importance of his three companions. They didn't have their families anymore, but in a way, they had formed a new one. They had to stick together, no matter the consequences or their surroundings.

"Come on, Hermione. What happened?" He asked, sitting beside her.

"I don- I don't want to talk about it."

They waited in silence for a few moments, a companionable one that neither wanted to break.

"It was Sirius: he was with another girl." She whispered once she had calmed herself down sufficiently.

"Well, he messed up. Who would cheat on you? You're beautiful. You are also the smartest witch I know: I'd be worried you'd use some of your brains to get revenge on me, if I had cheated on you."

"You're just saying that."

"No, Hermione, I'm really not. I'm not at all. I lo- well, I care about you a lot."

Hermione grinned through her rapidly drying tears.

"Yeah, I care about you a lot too, Ronald Weasley."

* * *

Harry stared at his hands, it was just a few minutes before he and Ginny were to leave to meet up with his parents for their double date. A double date with his parents. Granted, they didn't know that they were his parents, and they were only seventeen. It just felt...weird. It was going to be a double date, and he was going with them. He didn't really know what to think.

He jumped when he felt someone rest their hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw that it was Ginny, she looked stunning. Not that she didn't always, but tonight there was a certain kind of happy glow about her that he hadn't seen since he broke up with her. He felt guilt bubble in his stomach, he knew that part of it was his fault.

Before he could think of anything to say, she spoke. "Are you okay? You seem rather tense."

He nodded, and sighed, "It's my parents. It's their first date, and I'm going to be going with them. How do these things happen?"

Ginny chuckled, and sat next to him, wrapping her arms around him before resting her head on his shoulder. "Life is a strange thing, and there are many things that we will never understand. Sometimes it is just best to go with the flow."

Harry smiled at that, and wrapped an arm around her waist, before pulling her into his lap. She giggled. "Thank you."

He stared into her eyes, and she stared back. It had been so long since they had been so close together. It was so right, so normal, something that they hadn't had in so long. Without thinking, they leaned forward until their lips touched.

* * *

Lily waited nervously in the Entrance Hall. She had been the first to arrive, fifteen minutes early. She needed the time to help herself relax. It didn't work, her anxiety only grew each passing moment. She never told anyone, not even her friends, but she had always hoped that James would grow a brain. Maybe that was why she had been immediately interested in Harry: he looked a lot like James, but he had a far more mature outlook. Still, she had thought about James' a lot over the past month: he really had grown up! Ever since he had taken on the responsibility of Head Boy, there had been a marked decrease in pranks: while the Marauders had been mutinous, Lily had grudgingly admitted to herself that his attitude was impressive. Recently, he had taken to pranking those who deserved it: the bullies of the school. Lily realised that it was a constructive, innovative way to utilise their considerable pranking skills without harming innocent students. Being targeted by the Marauders stopped some rebellious students from continuing their wrongdoing: sometimes taking house points wasn't enough.

Lily shook herself, tearing herself away from her thoughts. She had become rather distracted lately, thoughts of James invading her every moment. It was exasperating, yet it also held a hidden thrill- Lily's excitement for the date had been increasing since Harry had suggested she reevaluate James' behaviour.

She was glad she had taken his advice, yet she couldn't help but be a little nervous. She wondered if James really had changed. What if he was an insufferable prat throughout the entire date? Worse still, she was concerned about James' attraction to her. She couldn't help but contemplate that James' crush on her might have started because she was unattainable; she was the one girl that said no to his charms. She didn't know how she would feel if James decided he didn't like her during their date. It wasn't as if he knew the real her: he was used to her violent rages, her angry screams, not the personality she usually presented to the world.

Of course, she was being silly. It was perfectly rational to feel nervous before a date, but she couldn't allow it to control her. She threw a cursory glance at her watch, before settling back against the wall. She hoped that he would arrive soon, the way her thoughts travelled in nervous spirals was most distracting.

She heard footsteps and looked up to see Harry and Ginny coming her way. They were holding hands, which was something that Lily was happy to see, she had been afraid that Harry would have ended up coming without an actual date. She didn't want to force him to come, alone or with someone who he was just friends with. She smiled happily, "Hi."

"Hi," Ginny replied. Harry nodded in greeting, he was looking around rather nervously. Ginny glanced at him, noticing Lily's concerned glance. She walked over to whisper to Lily, "Don't worry, he is just afraid that he messed up setting up the date, he'll be fine once he sees that everything is fine. And trust me, it will be." She winked, causing both of them to giggle, and Harry to look at them suspiciously.

Before he could say anything, a new set of footsteps came running their way, and a disheveled James quickly appeared. "Sorry I'm late." He looked around and noticed everyone was there, "Ready to go?"

* * *

"Ah, Lucius. Do you have anything to report?"

Lucius Malfoy gulped, preparing himself for the Dark Lord's wrath. He had failed to locate any information on the four survivors of their attack upon the boarding school and he expected to be punished severely. Telling a wizard as powerful and evil as Voldemort that he had failed in his given task practically guaranteed torture of some kind.

Sometimes, Lucius regretted joining the Death Eaters: the Dark Lord's predilection for the cruciatus curse did not bode well for anyone who entered his service. Other times, he remembered the thrill of purifying the Wizarding World, recruiting new wizards to the cause and their growing power base. When thoughts of their strength entered his mind, Lucius was very glad he was a member of Voldemort's servants. Ultimately, power was what it boiled down to: Lucius- thanks to an excellent idea from his wife- was guaranteed a high position in the society of whoever prevailed. If the Dark Lord won, he would retain his position as a trusted inner circle member. If the Ministry did not fall and Voldemort was defeated, the imperius curse would be his shield. Either way, he would be able to influence the policies of each side towards his own interests, keeping the Wizarding World as pure as possible. He had been playing the power game for years: he was prepared to switch sides at any moment.

Thoughts of his power games were roughly shunted aside however when he focused on the Dark Lord's malevolent form. His eyes passed over the pale skin, the high cheekbones and the crimson eyes that glittered with carefully controlled madness. It was a terrifying sight to behold.

"There was nothing in the Hall of Records, my Lord."

Perhaps he should have said more, but it was difficult to maintain an even, measured tone while the darkest wizard of the century idly twirled his wand in his fingers. As Lucius writhed in agony from the torture curse, his thoughts scattered into primal screams of agony. Even when the curse stopped, he remained on the floor, twitching and spasming.

"You disappoint me, Lucius," hissed the Dark Lord, fingering his wand after releasing the spell. "No matter, your news is intriguing. Look deeper and see what you can discover on them. They are hiding something. Find out what."

"Yes, my Lord!" Lucius rose shakily, and left with a bow.

* * *

Elizabeth had noticed that over the past month, her Ronald had been growing closer to that...that..she didn't even know a word that horrible enough to fit her. Hermione Granger. Elizabeth hated her, she was trying to steal away her true love, and it wasn't fair. He was hers! Granger had no right to even lay a finger on him, much less be so close to him and spend so much time with him. Ron belonged to only one person and that was her. She just had to show him, and she knew the perfect way.

One day when she saw Ron in the entrance hall she knew she had to act, he was almost holding hands with Granger! She ran up to him, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was the most perfect thing she had ever experienced, that is until she realized that he wasn't responding. She pulled back and looked at him confusedly, "What is the matter, my love?"

Ron stared at her dumbstruck, he had no words to describe what had just happened. His stomach churned, and he did the only thing he could, emptied the contents of his stomach all over Elizabeth before fleeing the hall.

Laughter broke out among all the students who had watched the exchange. Elizabeth stood there, tears flooding down her cheeks. Hermione snickered and shook her head, before leaving to see if Ron was all right.

* * *

Harry led the way out of the castle to the area that he had enlisted the house elves to set up for the date. The winter air whipped around his face, tangling his hair even more than usual. He sent a nervous glance towards his parents, they seemed to be eyeing each other unsure of what to say. He exchanged a look with Ginny, and she nodded, squeezing his hand tighter.

Once they were most of the way there Harry stopped, and turned to face James and Lily. "Since I've set up the date, I've decided that it's going to be a surprise." He handed everyone, including Ginny, a blindfold. "Put these on, and I'll tell you when to take them off."

James opened his mouth to protest, but Harry gave him a pointed look. He put it on without a word. Ginny and Lily exchanged giggling glances before putting on theirs.

"Alright, Lily take Ginny's free hand, and I'll lead the way." Harry smiled to himself, he couldn't wait to see the look on Ginny's face.

He squeezed Ginny's hand to let her know he was starting off. He led them towards that lake and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He made sure to stay where the trees were still sparse, but where they were out of sight of the school. He looked around to make sure that house elves had prepared everything. Seeing nothing amiss, he spoke.

"You can remove the blindfolds now."

James was the first, when he saw what had been set up an envious, yet slightly pleased, expression formed on his face. Ginny and Lily had removed theirs, and gasped in excitement and shock.

Laying on the ground was a blanket large enough to hold all of them with plenty of extra room. It seemed to glow a pretty aqua blue, with little gold sparkles. Spread out around the area where many candles, there was a small cluster of three in the middle of blanket and the rest had been placed around it, so that there was more than enough light to see by, even though it was only the last quarter moon in the sky. There were two picnic baskets on the ground beside the blanket, each had small bouquet of blue and yellow flowers laying on top of them. The area was warm, none of the crisp winter air invaded their little bubble.

"Harry, it's beautiful. Thank you," said a wide eyed Lily. She came over and kissed him on the cheek, causing James to glare at him, that is, until Lily went and kissed his cheek as well.

"Yes, thank you, Harry," said Ginny, she gave him a full kiss to show her gratitude. He blushed and entwined his fingers with hers.

* * *

'The date was going rather well,' thought Ginny, as she absently played with her bouquet while leaning against Harry. Once the nervous air that they had started out with had been broken, James and Lily had gotten into a rather long discussion and had seemingly forgotten about her and Harry. She didn't mind though, she was content enough to be with Harry, and after all, this date was for them more than her and Harry.

She was almost dozing, when she felt someone tap on her shoulder, looking around her realized that it was Harry, he was looking at her with fond smile on his face. "Take a walk with me, and let them have a moment alone?" He nodded towards his parents.

She followed his gaze and giggled quietly, James and Lily had fallen silent, but they were staring intently into each others' eyes. Lily had a slight flush on her cheeks, and it seemed as though they were steadily moving closer together. Returning her gaze to Harry, she nodded.

Harry grinned and rose to his feet. He offered her his hand, and when she took it, he helped her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her to him. She leaned against him sighing contently.

They walked in silence for several minutes. "You still haven't lost your touch, I really don't know how you failed on your date with Cho."

Harry chuckled at the once embarrassing memory, "I'll have you know that after that Hermione had pounded into my head exactly what to do on a date, and what not to do."

"Mmm, remind me to thank her." Ginny sighed contentedly, this was something that she really missed.

Harry grinned, and kissed the top of her head, "I'll do that."

* * *

James and Lily watched their companions leave for their walk.

"I think he planned that," said James, shaking his head in amazement. "How did he do it?"

Lily looked at him exasperated, "Is that really what you want to talk about now?"

He turned a bright red, "No..."

"Good!" Lily grinned, and leaned forward to give him another kiss on the cheek right as he was about to do the same for her. Their lips connected. Lily froze, she was actually kissing him. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like eternity. When she pulled back, she blushed bright red.

"I have to go," she mumbled, before getting up and rushing away.

James watched her, disappointed, before getting to his feet as well and following her back, slower.

Once at the doors to the school, she turned around, seeing James, she waved.

* * *

Snow had fallen the night before, leaving a shimmery glaze over the grounds of Hogwarts and the castle seemed to be asleep, barely anyone was outside and candles flickered in windows, providing a sense of safety when, really, it was only because the sun was hidden behind clouds. The Gryffindor Common Room, however, broke the sleepy atmosphere with loud bellows and loud footsteps that hurried down the stairs that connected the main room to the dormitories. The common room was pretty packed by the time James made his way down, feeling uncharacteristically tired. He would have been down earlier, like all the years before, but he just couldn't drag himself out of bed. Remus had a knowing smirk and that, paired with the fact that his friend always complained about being pulled down too early on Christmas morning, led to James suspecting he had something to do with it.

As was tradition, the Marauders had opened every present they had received upon waking, save for each others'. When they settled down into their favourite corner and prepared to tear into the wrappings, they all stopped as one, however. A palpable tension had engulfed their usual carefree banter.

"Guys," James said solemnly "this is our last Christmas together."

Sirius shoved him lightly on the arm.

"You idiot! We'll stick together after Hogwarts, we'll stay best friends forever!"

Remus had his brow furrowed in thought.

"But what if we can't? What if one of us is killed? You Know Who is only getting stronger. I've seen it in the paper!"

"Nice one, Moony. Why do you always have to ruin the happy mood?" Sirius snapped, but all four of them knew that he only did so because he was worried. Once they left Hogwarts, they would not be able to ignore the gathering storm on the horizon.

"No, he's right. I think that once we get out, we should live every single day like it's our last. Because for all we know, it could be."

Sirius glared at James for a moment, before placing his hand in the air between them.

"I solemnly swear that I will protect, aid and spend time with my fellow Marauders, living every day to its fullest. If I fail to do so, may my head be sliced from my body and all my savings go towards buying a round of drinks at the pub."

The other three swore the oath as well, all four of them grasping the serious nature of their agreement, despite the increasingly ridiculous punishments they invented for breaking the pact.

"We should sign off with something." James declared, fiercely. "I declare a prank to make it official."

Remus let out a sigh. "James, it's Christmas. Let the people have some peace for one day."

"Moony, you're no fun."

Remus glanced around. "Not so loud, Sirius. Merlin..."

"Why? I think it's cool. We have secret nicknames, it's just showing that we're elite."  
"Yeah, but you have a decent name, James."

Peter nodded. "Yeah! Who wants to be a worm's tail? Isn't a worm basically a tail anyway?"

Remus put his head down on the table. "Can we not discuss this now?"

* * *

Lily blushed and accepted the letter from Slughorn who looked amused. "Really, Lily, who sends letters the normal way anymore?"

Lily shrugged. "How'd she get the address?"

"Address? No, she sent it to Hogsmeade. But, why didn't she send it by owl?"

Lily traced the name on the letter with her finger. "She doesn't like magic."

Slughorn nodded. "Well, if you ever want to talk, I've got a bottle of firewhiskey I could share."

"Professor!"

"Just a suggestion..."

Lily hurried away, until she reached the first flight of stairs out of the dungeons. She sat down at the bottom of the steps, and tore open the letter, quickly scanning it. Petunia had written to her. Her sister wanted to talk to her. She nearly ran the rest of the way to the library, quickly finding her quill and plunging it into the ink pot to reply. She glanced up as she heard a sharp intake of breath and found a very red faced Hermione sitting across from her. Finally, the other girl gave up and leaned back, trying not to laugh too loudly.

"Did you see her face? Merlin, that was hilarious."

Lily glanced up. "What?"

"She deserved it. Ron's embarrassed, though. Damn her if she gets a free date out of it."

Lily closed her eyes and tried a new approach. "Oh, I hadn't heard. Who's dating Ron?"

"No one!" Hermione stopped laughing as abruptly as she had started, "But that Elizabeth girl... she's a crazy one."

"Maybe he just has bad taste or..."

"NO!" Hermione shook her head. "He can't! No... no... ignore me, what are you doing?"

"I just got a letter from my sister. She says... she says she'll see me again. She wants to introduce me to her fiance. She says we'll double date. I wonder if..."

"You should ask James," Hermione interrupted. "Aren't you going on a date sometime."

"Not you too. It already happened, and it was... anyway, Porter's the one who arranged the whole thing, really. I should thank him. It went really well. But... I don't know what Petunia's gonna think about James, though. She's kind of..."

"Against magic?"

"Yeah."

"I know what you mean."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Lily staring at her letter and Hermione up at the ceiling. Finally, Lily dipped her quill back in the ink and Hermione shook her head and looked back at her book. They didn't talk any more but they both seemed to be aware that more had been understood than talked about.


	11. Chapter Ten: Saltigrade

_Author's Note: I'd just like to say that if any of you don't speak Latin, the Gryffindor password Leo Superbia means Lion Pride in Latin and apparently that's all I can come up with because I'm not that imaginative but... there's your Latin lesson of the day (and google translate is very helpful)_

_~ Locket_

**Chapter Ten- Saltigrade**

**- progressing by leaps -**

* * *

**Metric- Succexy**

_Where does the time go?_

_We're waking up so slowly_

_Days are horizontal lately_

_Out of body, watched from above_

_Out of body, watched from above_

_Passive attraction, programmed reaction_

_More information, cash masturbation_

_Follow the pattern- the hemlines, the headlines_

_Action distraction,faster than fashion_

_Faster than fashion,faster than fashion_

_Lonesome for no one when_

_The room was empty and_

_War as we knew it was obsolete_

_Nothing could beat denial_

* * *

Glitter was sprinkled all over the Gryffindor common room, as well as in all four of the Marauders' hair, and it seemed like snow, people at the New Years party having gotten it everywhere. Now it was quiet, however, everyone having gone up to bed, leaving only the four best friends down in the common room. But it doesn't stay quiet long when the Marauders are together.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Sirius winced as his best friend yelled in his ear. "Isn't it great to see me again?"

James was grinning at him, sitting up with a thrilled look. "It's 1978! And I'm with my best friends in the whole wide world!"

Lily had stumbled into the common room, her red hair tangled hopelessly and her eyes half closed. That was when she spotted James and nearly tripped as she tried to hurry back up the stairs to the girl's dorms. He beat her there, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her back into the room. The Marauders were already there; Sirius had collapsed into an armchair, Remus was curled up on the couch, and Peter was splayed out on the floor, sleeping heavily. Lily shook her head.

"No. I will not be part of your little party. I'm only here because it's four in the morning, New Years has passed, and people want to actually get some sleep."

"Don't be like that, Lily." James pouted. "After all, we have a date soon."

Sirius took that as a sign to inch backwards hoping to not disturb the duo. He'd seen them get into fights like these so many times over the year, but it would only be worse now that they were kinda-sorta-not really dating. It was way too late to fake sleep, like Remus was, or actually be asleep, like Peter, so he did the next best thing and ran for the dorms, only just ducking out of the way as Lily turned to watch his flee with a smirk.

"James! I only decided to take you because I needed someone!"

Peter rolled over but didn't wake up. James shook his head, stubbornly. "You love me!"

"Oh, this sounds awfully familiar."

This time, however, it was her that leaned over and kissed him. He turned to look at her, surprised. She blushed and wrapped an arm around him. "You're not horrible, I'll give you that much."

* * *

Vernon knew that he should have never agreed to meet with James Potter and Lily Evans as soon as he heard that Petunia's sister was a witch - more like a freak! If he was honest with himself, Vernon felt that he should have put his foot down, but he was supposed to please his bride-to-be, whatever that meant. Due to his lack of action, he was still stuck in a dark car, despite the fact that the clock had entered into the early hours of the morning. He was tired of hearing her complain about her Mother and her Father. They had seemed respectable enough to him, even if they had allowed a baby with such freakish powers to be born. With all the medical advancements of recent times, Vernon was surprised that they hadn't detected the magic within the child and opted to have an abortion. It was certainly a decision that Vernon would take if Petunia was pregnant with a magical child.

He was certain, however, that he would not create a magical child within their union. The Dursley genes were strong: they would squash any freak genes that Petunia carried. His son or daughter would be perfect, combining Petunia's beauty with his own intelligence, strength and charisma.

Vernon considered himself to be an extraordinary man within an ordinary world. Most of the people Vernon met aimlessly wandered through life's corridors - Vernon obeyed societal norms while ruthlessly climbing through the obstacles thrown at him. He prided himself on being ordinary yet more successful than his peers. He enjoyed a beer at the pub, watching a game of rugby on the telly, sneakily storing top shelf magazines under the bed the two of them shared. He went to church on Sunday, played football or golf with his friends on Wednesday afternoons - depending on the weather - and often found himself watching the motorsport highlights late at night. Despite his ordinary approach to life, he was well on his way to the top of the career ladder and had a wife that was much younger, prettier and wittier than most of the people his own age deserved. He had an expensive car and could already afford to buy the house he planned for them to spend their marriage in. He had even booked a famous opera singer for their wedding, set for the following year. Vernon's current state of affairs, whilst remaining normal in the face of such achievements compared to those of others his age, was why he often applied such adjectives as 'extraordinary' to his person.

Vernon was infuriated when he heard about the magical community. He had worked hard to become so magnificent: the wizards could do everything without working a day in their lives. Petunia said that they could make heavy things float, create fake money that could fool the most shrewd of bankers and even cure the most persistent of diseases! For a man that worked hard to put food on the table every week, Vernon was insulted. Worse still, was the fact that the wizards kept themselves hidden away; they could use their magic to help the world, rather than keep it to themselves. The magicians contributed nothing to society with their fancy tricks. Vernon was not pleased to know that they had to entertain two magicians for a dinner, but he was content that he would be able to argue his case that wizards should reach out towards the ordinary people. From what Petunia had told him, Lily was a sensible girl: maybe the wizard she had chosen was of a decent sort. After all, ordinary folk had good and bad people, why shouldn't wizards? Deciding that he would give James Potter a chance, Vernon confirmed that he would go for a meal with the wizard and witch. Most people would be unwilling to give their kind a chance, especially when they did nothing to help regular citizens, but Vernon Dursley was not most people. He would be magnanimous and spend a cordial night with the two magicians. After all, what was the worst that could happen?

* * *

Night had fallen outside the castle, but the fire cast a warm glow over the common room. Ron was stretched out on a squashy, beige sofa, his hands behind his head, staring lazily into space. Hermione was seated nearby, flicking earnestly through the pages of a large book and jotting down notes on a long roll of parchment as she did so. Every so often, Ron let his eyes drift towards her, watching as she repeatedly tucked back a lock of bushy hair, which kept falling over her face while she worked. The two of them had the common room to themselves - Harry and Ginny had both gone to bed - and Ron was relishing the comfortable silence that hung between them, broken only by the scratching of Hermione's quill and the crackling of burning logs.

Eventually, Hermione set down her book, rolling up the parchment and laying it carefully on the table. She turned to Ron, stifling a yawn. "Goodness, I'm tired. I think I'll head off to bed in a minute."

"Finished writing your novel?" said Ron sarcastically, eyeing the long scroll, which was crammed with Hermione's neat writing.

"Honestly, Ron, we're taking our NEWTs this year, and homework's important. Have you finished your Transfiguration essay yet?"

Ron stared at her incredulously. "Here we are, catapulted into the past, and you're still thinking about homework!" He shook his head. "I always knew you were mental."

"Quite the charmer, aren't you?" said Hermione. She raised one eyebrow, an uncharacteristically mischievous sparkle lighting up behind her eyes. "Elizabeth certainly seems to think so, at least."

"Oh, Merlin, don't even mention that-that troll!" shuddered Ron, burying his head in his hands.

"Why, don't you enjoy the attention?" asked Hermione innocently.

"Hermione..."

Hermione simply smiled and moved over to sit next to Ron on the sofa. Ron's stomach gave a pleasurable squirm as he felt her warm fingers brush against his own, and he turned to Hermione, suddenly feeling rather brave.

"Elizabeth's not quite my type, you see."

"Oh no?" Hermione looked faintly amused.

"No. She's too much... well... ogre." Ron paused, his cheeks flushing pink as he forced out the next sentence in a jumble of words, before he could lose his nerve. "And not enough brown-haired, beautiful bookworm."

"Ron?" Hermione stared at him, her mouth falling slightly open. Ron's stomach gave another wriggle, this time in a less pleasant, altogether more uncomfortable way. He silently cursed himself for rushing headlong into such an awkward situation. Still, the only thing he could do now was to press on.

"Hermione? Would you be interested, maybe, just if you haven't got anything else planned, I mean-" Ron stopped, took a deep breath and started again. "Hermione, will you go out with me?"

There was a slight pause, in which Hermione continued to stare at him. Ron closed his eyes, grimacing internally, and then Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "You complete idiot, Ronald Weasley! I've been waiting for you to ask me that for years! Of course I will."

* * *

Petunia hurried into the muggle diner, listening for the comforting sound of her high heels clicking across the floor. The steady rhythm helped her calm down long enough to check their reservation, and she got to the table before she blurted it out.

"I can't do this." She'd nearly forgotten why she'd even decided to arrange this except for the fact that she was certain that getting family's approval was part of some unspoken code of right behavior, and she could deal with Lily for one night. So she thought...

Until a way-too-familiar girl with red hair and a sweet smile that Petunia had always hated entered the restaurant, accompanied by a black haired man who was glancing at everyone in the restaurant like they were aliens. Petunia was just about to pretend she didn't know them when Lily spotted her and the two joined them at the table.

Lily's date was muttering to her loudly, something about "Muggles" but that had to be when Vernon stepped in.

"And what is a Muggle?" he asked, red faced.

"Non-magical folk." Lily replied, curtly. "Like you and 'Tuna."

"Lily..." Petunia could keep the anger out of her voice. "We're not ten anymore, don't call me that."

A hurt expression crossed Lily's face, but it was gone rather quickly

Vernon turned purple when he heard what Lily said. "So you even have your own words to describe us. Lazy blitters, don't even work, and you think that you can insult us every turn. I won't have it."

James laughed. "Really, now, and what would you know about it?"

Lily looked at him horrified.

Petunia glared at Lily. How dare she bring along someone like that. He had no respect for anyone.

Vernon was glaring at James. "What car do you drive?"

James smirked. "I drive a racing broom..." he went on to describe it even more detail, right down to the very last twig.

With every word that word that James spoke, Vernon only continued to get redder and angrier.

Lily tried to defuse the conversation, but it didn't work. Thankfully, a waiter came, and they ordered their food. The meal proceeded in an uncomfortable silence. Lily felt her heart sink as Petunia continued to glare at her, and Vernon continued to fume. When it was time to pay, she paid for her and James's food, while Vernon paid for his and Petunia's. That did not go unnoticed by Vernon.

"Wizards must live on unemployment benefits," gloated Vernon, feeling that he finally had something to hold over their heads. "I'll have you know that a hard working man never lets the lady pay."

Lily knew that she was going to cry and sank back into her seat, wishing that she should could be anywhere else or that James wouldn't say what she knew his was going to.

James smirked. "Gringotts is the wizarding bank. Also, my parents have a great fortune stored there in solid gold."

Vernon looked gobsmacked for a moment, before his anger returned worse than before. "Come on, Tuny, let's leave this riffraff." The engaged couple stormed out of the building, leaving a heartbroken Lily behind.

Tears streamed down her face, and she slapped James. "Couldn't you be civil for once? That was my sister, and you completely ruined my chances of reconciling with her."

James felt guilt creep into his chest, and he wrapped an arm around Lily's waist before pulling her into his lap. "I'll make it up to him. I promise."

Lily just nodded; she was crying too hard to say anything else.

* * *

Peter sat beside Remus in the Library. Remus was working on an assignment. He had his supplies with him, but he didn't know what he was supposed to be working on, and Remus wasn't helping: so instead he was staring around the Library.

"Stop staring at her, Sirius will take your head off if he learns of it," said Remus, not looking up from his work.

"But I've seen her before, and you have, too."

"Peter, this is her first time to this school. Where would we have seen her?"

"The first Hogsmeade weekend, she was there. I know it was her."

Remus frowned and looked up at Hermione Granger. No, he didn't recognize her, and he easily remembered faces. He was certain that if she was there, he would have noticed. "Peter, as I have told you before, it wasn't her."

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but he was interrupted by Sirius's arrival.

Sirius dropped his bag on the table and said loudly, "I've got it."

"Got what?" asked Peter, a confused frown appearing on his face.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Peter. "If I told you it would completely ruin the surprise."

"Then why are you telling us?" asked Peter, getting even more confused.

"Just watch."

Remus sighed and closed his book. "I think that this is a very bad idea, Sirius."

"What are you talking about? I think it's brilliant."

"I'm not going to be a part of this." Remus stood, packing up his things, and quickly made his way out of the library.

Sirius sent a disappointed look after Remus. "No matter, come along, Peter," he ordered the boy, who had been looking uncertainly after Remus as it wondering whether he should have followed.

Peter jumped and scurried along after Sirius.

"Hermione, my love," said Sirius in what he knew was an overly-dramatic voice, "why did you ever break up with me? We were so good together."

Hermione didn't even look up from her book; she just flipped the page.

Sirius frowned and decided to try something else. "Hey, babe, it's the seventies. Come on."

That made Hermione look up, she had a thunderous look on her face. "How dare you. You think that you can win me back, after what you did." She slammed the book shut and stood. Without another word, she slammed her fist into his face for the second time. "Try that again, and you will regret it." With that, she was gone.

Sirius clutched his nose and looked after her, before turning to Peter. "What did I do?"

"She's dangerous," Peter squeaked.

* * *

Ginny was sitting in their makeshift common room, still wondering what was up in her head. Tom hadn't said anything in forever and while she was glad for that, it also freaked her out. She was listing out the pros and cons of this arrangement on a piece of parchment when Harry came in. Hurriedly - and a bit too late - she cast an invisibility charm on it and stuffed it into her bag. He gave her a strange look.

"You practicing your charms?"

"Yeah." She waved her wand, only this time it was to transfigure her quill into a new piece of parchment. "Harry, I'm worried..."

"About what? We're just twenty years in the past."

"Harry! Remember the first wizarding war? That's now!"

"I know." He put his head in his hands. "I know, Ginny. But we just have to finish up this school year, and then we'll figure it all out."

"Harry! You might have had money back in the present, but you don't now. That's James's; we have no way to support ourselves."

Harry put his head down on the table. "Ginny, not now... we have enough to worry about."

"Not now? Okay then, Harry, when?" She sat back down on the couch, leaning back. "Look. I don't mean to... but we're at Hogwarts now, Harry. What is there for us to worry about? No one suspects anything, and it'd be better to think about this now than we're out on the streets without any money."

"What do you propose, then?"

"You're going to kill me."

"I'm serious, Ginny. Tell me."

She gulped. "Propose wasn't that far off."

He shook his head. "No. Ginny..."

"They won't know the difference, Harry. You look just like James and I have Lily's red hair, some make-up and maybe a voice changing charm would go that extra length."

"We can't have an extra set of Lily and James's running around. Everyone will... they'll get confused."

"We'll be careful. Come on, try it now. I'll distract James, and you try to convince his friends. If they buy it, anyone will."

"And if they don't?"

"Don't be such a downer, Harry - or should I say, James. Look at the bright side. Now, go!"

Harry stumbled all the way up to the Gryffindor common room before he remembered that he didn't know the password. If only he had his invisibility cloak, he'd be able to hide and listen to other students give the password first, but it had disappeared - he'd realized - once they arrived in the past.

That's when Lily came skipping up the stairs and spotted Harry. "James... you have to remind me to thank Harry for the double date." She kissed his cheek and whispered, "And thanks for coming with me to see Petunia and Vernon."

Harry tried not to let his eyes widen too much and put on his best James impression. "No trouble at all."

She smiled at him. "Thanks. Leo superbia."

He followed her into the common room, ignoring his supposed friends' whistles. He knew that Mums might kiss their sons on the cheek, but as long as that was all it was. He really didn't think he could keep this up, and while he wasn't looking forward to telling Ginny her idea was no good, it really wasn't gonna work.

Remus and Peter looked up first, motioning him over, and Harry tried his best to appear more confident than he felt. Sirius was the last to look up, but he had none of his wide-eyed energy that Harry had come to expect in his teenage version. He hurried to look back at the textbook that he was actually reading - or pretending to - and even Harry knew something was wrong.

"What's up?"

His future godfather ignored him, and Remus took it upon himself to answer. "He's still sad about Hermione. I told him he should move on, but..." Peter pushed Sirius and their friend didn't do anything in retaliation; he just sat there.

Suddenly Remus's eyes widened. "I know what to do. Sirius, remember the promise?"

Sirius nodded and Remus continued. "And James... remember your idea?"

Harry faltered for a moment before agreeing. "So," their friend concluded, "we shall pull a prank in order to close the deal and cheer up Padfoot."

Sirius looked up, finally. "You actually called me Padfoot in public."

"I did."

"You guys..."

Harry was not going to be able to go through with this.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, trying to figure out a problem that had taken a hold of in his mind ,and he couldn't think of anything else but it. He wasn't entirely sure, but he was almost positive that Harry Porter, his records stating that he was born December 5, 1959 in Sydney, Australia to a Liam and Jane Porter, had the Elder Wand, which was impossible as he owned the Elder Wand. Albus sighed as he tapped his fingers on his desk. He wasn't sure what he thought of Mr. Porter, nor Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, and Miss Granger. All four of them were bright students, but all four of them were also very secretive and quiet, except in classes. There they showed their knowledge about the topics at hand when they could, except in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where they pretty much ran the class and completely changed the grading curve. It made Albus wonder why they were so good at DADA.

Albus wondered about the possibility about them being Death Eaters. As much as it saddened him, Voldemort had no qualms about recruiting young people into his organization. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. Voldemort seemed to consider it a win-win. Either he could send the young ones out as bait and have his older Death Eaters safe, or they would prove their worth and would become the older, trusted Death Eaters. The thought presented the logic of why would the four kill Death Eaters, their own, but Albus remembered something that had happened with Gell - Grindelwald. He had found out that some of his older lieutenants were planning a coup and had some of his newest recruits kill them, their mentors, filling their heads and manipulating them into thinking that if they killed killing them, they would saving the cause. The worst part was, Gell - Grindelwald, had gotten that idea from him, something that Albus had said he would do if need be.

Albus sighed. He didn't know if these four were really Death Eaters, but he wanted to know if they were or not. Even if they weren't, they were hiding something and he was going to find out what it was.

He turned back to the papers scattered about his desk. Papers from the ministry, asking him to help with many of the current problems. Papers from the professors here at Hogwarts, begging him to sort out a number of students, mostly Slytherins that had suspected or convicted Death Eaters as family members. Newspapers all basically reporting the same thing, that Voldemort was here, getting stronger, and that everyone had something to fear.

For once in his life, Albus Dumbledore agreed with the newspapers. Everyone did have something to fear. And they should keep fighting because of it.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Saltus

_A.N: Hello again our darling Death Eat...ahem...readers. There are a couple of changes that we will be announcing here. Firstly we would just like to send out a thanks to our new beta Venom (Miz636). She has destroyed all of our lovely mistakes that you have been seeing and pointing out to us. So thank you very much. Secondly, our updates are going to be slowing down to once a month. Some of us are starting school up again soon. We ARE NOT giving up on this story or even this trilogy. Not now. Not ever. Finally, we have a couple of new collaborators that we would like to welcome as well as say goodbye to Potterhead. Blood and Moonshadows (Ring) and potterwatch97 (Snake) are our new collaborators. _

_I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and that the length makes up for the wait, it is nearly a thousand words longer than our others. Thanks, - The Seventh Horcrux, Scar._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven- Saltus**

**- breach of continuity; jump to a conclusion -**

* * *

**Metric- Wanderlust**

_I've been sleepwalking_

_Through the railway station_

_Wake me up_

_When they call my destination_

_Where I've been_

_I was bound to leave behind_

_All device and all disease was mine_

_I'm speeding out of reach_

_Oh, you're the one I had to meet_

_I never wanted to go home_

_Wanderlust will carry us on_

_There was nothing there for me_

_Wanderlust will carry us on_

_In a high rise on my own_

_I've been ...highways for so long_

_Looking out in a mirrored balcony_

_Wanderlust will carry us on_

_Will there ever be a place for you and me?_

_Wanderlust_

_I'm rolling in for a seven day weekend_

_Living up again to my old reputation_

_Can you cover me?_

_Cause I got no armor_

_Keep on moving down the line_

_Keep on going further_

_I'm speeding out of reach_

_Oh, you're the one I had to meet_

* * *

Ginny leaned back in her chair, wondering if she was making the right decision here. She knew what she wanted, of course, and what - or rather, who - she wanted was Harry. But did Harry feel the same way? Did he still want her? Was she being childish, wanting to be with him again?

Ginny pushed all of her self-conscience thoughts to the back of her mind as she heard a loud bell ring and a shuffling of chairs and textbooks as the rest of the students started to pack up everything and start to leave the classroom. She pressed herself a bit harder to the wall of the classroom so not as to be caught up in the crowd while looking for the familiar mop of messy black hair. It was a minute or two before she caught sight of it, but when she did, she was able to push through the throng to reach it's owner before he left the classroom.

"Harry!" she called out to him, now only a few feet away from where he stood. Harry turned and grinned when he saw her.

"Hey, Ginny," he said, giving her a small wave as she fell into step next to him. "What did you think of the class?"

"It was good," Ginny told him. "I prefer this defense teacher to the ones that we had in the future, besides Remus, of course."

Harry nodded. "Some of the teachers are much better, but some are worse, by far. Though, it seems that Binns is more boring than I remember."

"You're probably not the only one who thinks that, though you did get to go an entire year without listening to him talk," she said. As soon as it was out of her mouth, she knew she had said the wrong thing.

"I would rather have sat through thirty History of Magic lessons than what I went through that year," Harry said quietly.

Ginny nodded, blushing slightly. "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like it was better or anything." There was a short pause. "Um, Harry?" she said uncertainly, not sure this was the best time to bring this up. Even if it wasn't, she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand the awkward silence that had grown up between them.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"We broke up because Voldemort was a threat to me, right?"

Harry visibly stiffened. "Yeah, that's why."

"Well, I was just thinking, Voldemort isn't a threat anymore, is he?" Harry looked at her questioningly. Ginny hurried on. "The thought was that Voldemort could use me to get to you. But in this time, you aren't even born yet. None of us are. Voldemort can't threaten me that way anymore." Ginny glanced at him sideways, trying to get a feel for what his opinion was. Harry remained silent. "What do you think?" she prompted him.

"I... I don't know. Honestly, I'm scared for you. I care about you and I don't want to jeopardize your safety in any way if I can help it." Harry said slowly. "Voldemort is still here in this time, and he's still just as evil. What happens if, somehow, he finds out about us and why we're here and gets to you-" Harry stopped suddenly, and Ginny waited for him to gather himself. "I couldn't stand it if it was somehow my fault."

"Harry, if the Voldemort now found out about us and why we were here, then chances are he would know about us anyway and could still use it against us," GInny started to argue, but she stopped herself before she could go on. She didn't want this to escalate into a full blown argument. That would most likely ruin her chances. "Actually, forget all of that for a minute."

Harry looked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Ginny only just noticed they had stopped walking and were standing stationary in the middle of the hallway, much to the dismay of a few seventh year Slytherins. Ginny sent them a glare that sent them scurrying away, not wanting to get on the bad side of a redhead on a mission, having learned their lessons from Lily Evans.

"I mean, relationships shouldn't be about what's most convenient at the moment," she said. "Harry, do you care about me?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes, of course I do," he said, looking into her eyes and trying to convey the true depths of his feelings to her without words.

"And do you want to be with me?"

"Of course I do, but-" Harry started, but Ginny cut him off.

"I care about you and want to be with you, too. So why aren't we together?"

"I've told you, because Vold-" Ginny shook her head.

"I've told _you,_don't even think about him. I'm not interested in Voldemort, I'm interested in you. And you're not interested in Voldemort either - at least I hope you're not."

Harry chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, I'm definitely not."

Ginny nodded. "Then why are we letting Voldemort have anything to do with our relationship?" she asked. Harry stared at her for a very long moment before suddenly leaning down and pressing his lips to hers, and Ginny could feel in the kiss that he had wanted to do this for a very long time, had wanted it maybe even more than her. Ginny replied with the same earnest, reaching her arms up to wind around his neck. After a minute, they both had to pull away to breathe.

"Is that a yes, then?" Ginny whispered. Harry responded by pulling her up for another kiss.

"'Not interested'? You wound me, Ginevra. I thought we had something special," came a small voice from the back of her head.

* * *

Hermione was in a panic. They only had a few months until the NEWTs, and Ron had chosen this, of all times, to take her to Hogsmeade. She appreciated the gesture, she truly did, but it was rather horrible timing on his part. Ron told her to calm down, but didn't he realize this was the most important test they'd ever have to take, way more important than the OWLs?

He was ready to drag her to Honeydukes because he said he'd skipped breakfast, which she doubted but decided not to bring up, but she shook her head and headed for Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.

"Erm... Hermione?"

"What, Ron? I need a new quill."

"It's not that..."

"You do realize that these are very important exams, right? Well, I don't know about you, but I need to study, and I'd like it if you didn't-"

"I said, it's not that."

"What, then?"

"That's not the quill shop and I was just wondering why you wanted to go to Dogweed and Deathcap."

Hermione shook her head. "But it was here last time!"

"Last time was in the future. It might not have been built yet."

She sat down on a bench, frustrated. "Why can't we leave! I want to go back where Voldemort's gone and we don't have to worry about everyone finding out about us. I want to be back in our time."

"We all do, Hermione. We all do."

"I want to..."

"Yes?"

She kissed him.

"Yes?" he repeated.

She laughed. "Thanks."

"For?"

"Oh, never mind." She grabbed his hand and stood up. "You wanted to go to Honeydukes?"

* * *

Harry was pacing back and forth in their little common room, waiting for Ginny to finish getting ready. Ron and Hermione had already left for their date. He chuckled, remembering Hermione's frazzled yet happy look as she left, and the half worried glance she sent her books she left, as well as Ron's trying to reassure her that this was much needed relaxation from all the studying. He would never understand her love of school and studying, but she wouldn't be Hermione without it.

He was broken out of his musing by the sound of the girls' bedroom door opening. He turned, and his heart started beating faster in excitement. Ginny looked as radiant as always, if not more so, even in her school robes. She had put her hair up into to a kind of simple bun, but a couple of curled locks hung down around her face. She was smiling and looked more relaxed than he had seen her since their arrival in the past.

"You look beautiful."

Her smile widened, and she took his outstretched hand before kissing his cheek. "Thank you. You look rather handsome as well."

"Always for you."

Their walk to the village was a silent one. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; they simply had no need for words, just happy to bask in each others' presence. Harry couldn't help the glances that he kept sending her way. After catching her doing the same to him, they broke into laughter.

"What are we doing first?" asked Ginny, once they had they had calmed down.

"What do you want to do first?"

Ginny giggled. "Did I ever tell you what that you pick the best dates?"

"No, but you could do to tell me that a little more," he teased.

She whacked his arm. "Prat." She turned to eye the shops, and pointed to one that wasn't there in their time. "Let's go there."

They spent the rest of the trip happily browsing shops, and occasionally just walking around the village. They didn't buy anything, preferring to just look. Plus, they didn't have that much money here in the past, only what the Ministry had given them as reward for surviving such a horrible attack. Eventually they decided to go and visit the Shrieking Shack, wanting to get away from the chaos of the students visiting the village.

After conjuring a blanket to sit on and casting some spells to keep warm, they sat down, with Ginny snuggled into Harry's side. "What do you miss most?"

Harry knew immediately what Ginny was referring too, but he didn't have an immediate answer for her. He thought about it for a few minutes before deciding on what to say. "I don't really know. The most important things in my life are with me." He squeezed Ginny lightly to let her know that he was referring to her and Ron and Hermione. "I would have liked to have certain things, like my Firebolt and my Cloak, but I don't really miss them. I miss your family, but I was never really a complete part of it, no matter what anyone said." He shook his head, when Ginny opened her mouth to protest. She had turned around so that she was facing him as soon as he had started talking about her family. "You know it's true." She nodded in understanding and looked down at her hands.

"Ginny."

She looked up at him questioningly.

"I know that they are your family: your brothers and your parents, but it's not your fault that they are not mine in anything more than words. I miss them, I miss them loads, but I don't miss them like you do."

Tears leaked out of her eyes, and she flung her arms around his neck and started to cry onto his shoulder. He patted her back and whispered soothingly into her ear, comforting her the only way he knew how. After a while, she calmed down and scooted back.

She gave him a watery smile "Thanks."

"Any time," he said sincerely, giving her a comforting smile. He frowned in confusion, as her eyes suddenly got distant and an annoyed expression appeared on her face. It didn't look like she realized he was there anymore. He watched her for couple minutes anxiously; his worry only served to increase as her expression morphed from merely annoyed to agitated.

"Ginny?" He got no response. He said her name several more times and still received nothing. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ginny!"

She jumped and pulled out her wand, spinning around to look for a threat. When she realised that he was the only one around, she relaxed and gave him a nervous smile. "Sorry about that, I just got lost in thought."

"What about?" he asked, a frown still adorning his face. He had spent enough time with her to know when she was lying, and he knew that she was lying then, but he didn't want to press it.

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to spoil the rest of our date." She jumped to her feet, trying to act as happy as she had been before. He could tell it was all an act. He got to his feet along with her and vanished the blanket. He gave her his own fake smile, because he knew that the date had already been spoiled, but he was willing to try and fix it if she was.

"Let's go the Three Broomsticks; we haven't had anything since breakfast."

He nodded and followed after her, wondering what she was hiding from him, and from the look of things, hiding from him for a while now.

* * *

Peter glanced around the grounds, before following Severus down the path. He could feel a twitch gaining frequency and potency within his upper left cheekbone, the constant, uncontrollable spasms serving only to increase the tension he was feeling. He was scared, worried, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. He was being far braver than any of his friends: he was appealing directly to the only people who had the power to murder the four newest members of the school. He was protecting his best friends, the three kind souls who had lost their way in recent times. They had stopped joining him for meals so often and seemed preoccupied. Peter knew whose fault it was, of course: the new students, especially the ginger girl; she was pure evil. His mother had often said that one had to fight fire with fire, and maybe the evil cult that Snape belonged to would be perfect to combat the evil of the redhead witch and her accomplices.

At least, that was how Peter rationalised the situation. Deep down, he was a quivering mess. A tiny voice, a sensible one, screamed out from within its cage, buried under mountains of inadequacy.

"What are you doing, you stupid idiot? You're betraying everything you stand for, everything the Marauders stand for!"

Peter, of course, claimed that the voice was self doubt. In reality, it was his conscience. Still, he was used to crushing his feelings underneath his own perceived negativity. It was becoming easier as time went on. Perhaps he was truly being corrupted, but he was in denial. He was doing this for his friends, not because he was turning evil.

"Take my arm."

"Excuse me?"

"Take my arm," Snape repeated, sneering.

Peter only had time to realise that they were off school site, before he clasped his hand around his companion's elbow and the world transcended into a whirlwind of colour.

* * *

Elizabeth propped her book open and lay her head against the desk behind it, watching Ron through Charms class. He wasn't doing anything that interesting, but he had a few odd habits that she liked to observe; the way he never seemed to look at the Professor throughout the class, how he spoke with just enough impatience in his voice that he got across the point but didn't seem overly mad, and the way he-

"Where's he going?"

A young boy had entered the classroom, timidly pushing a note across Ron's desk toward him, and with a slight nod to Professor Flitwick, fled from the room. Ron had gone up to whisper with Flitwick and was leaving the room as well. Elizabeth knocked over her book and turned to Vera beside her.

"Is he coming back?"

Her fellow Slytherin gave her a look and snapped, "Maybe you should go see!"

Elizabeth's face lit up. "That's a wonderful idea! Professor, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Elizabeth... it was a joke."

Her friend never heard her because she was already running after Ron. She kicked off her shoes and hid them behind a suit of armor.

Elizabeth was out of breath by the time she caught up to Ron. She watched curiously as he entered the Hospital Wing. Why was her true love going to the Hospital Wing? Was there something the matter with him that she should about know for their children? She supposed they could always adopt. . . .

Elizabeth situated herself to hear everything that would be said by Ron. She was just in time as right then Madam Pomfrey began to talk.

"Mr. Weasley, I was looking over your transcript, and I saw something that I wanted to discuss with you."

"Yeah?" Elizabeth imagined that Ron was standing there with his hand in his pocket, a questioning expression on his face. He probably looked adorable.

"Can you describe your Spattergroit to me?"

Ron turned a deep shade of red and went to describe what he knew about his supposed Spattergroit. It was the only way that they could work with all of them being in the same year. Hermione had made sure to pound into his brain everything that she could on the subject so that, when asked, he would be able to respond without giving them away and causing more suspicion to be drawn their way.

Elizabeth grimaced as she listened to what was being described. She couldn't imagine how it must've been like to have the Spattergroit. More than anything, she hoped that it didn't come back. Though if it did come down to that, she wouldn't mind being the one to look after him.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange was not having a good day. Not in the slightest. She was bored out of her mind, cocooned within her bedsheets and enclosed by the forced darkness her curtains provided. Lethargy polluted every fibre of her being - her life was meaningless, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not deny that she felt worthless.

She pulled herself up, struggling to open her eyes. Of course, it wasn't sleep that attempted to force her eyes shut; it was the sorrow and self-loathing that permeated every aspect of her life.

Bellatrix stared listlessly at her wand, lying innocuously upon the bedside table. Often, she wished that she had never received it. It was nothing but a temptation, dragging her down into the abhorrent darkness. She wanted to escape, but she could do nothing to resist her nature. She was nothing but a product of her family's teachings. Narcissa, Andromeda, they had resisted, remaining pure and unspoiled. It was truly too late, she could do nothing to regain the innocence she once held.

At family gatherings, she had always admired her cousin, Sirius. He was brave, rebellious, convicted. Looking within herself, she wasn't sure if she admired him for his ideals, or how well he remained true to them. Of course, he had thought her insane. She had been caught up in her family's blood purity ideology, and he was as prejudiced against Blacks as they were against non-purebloods. Bellatrix wished that she could embrace the darkness in her heart completely, or run into the warmth of the sun.

Her foot, searching blindly under the bed, caught the edge of a bottle and kicked it out from its resting place. She eagerly ripped the cap from the bottle, ignoring the oozing marks that perforated her skin from the forceful removal. She shakily drank from the bottle, excess fluid staining her clothes. The alcohol was numbing, a blissful release from her pitiful existence. This time, however, the burning liquid failed to soothe her worries.

Bellatrix was at a crossroads, of that she was well aware. Dumbledore was not above giving second chances, she had seen evidence of that. He was said to be the only wizard that the Dark Lord feared. Dumbledore could protect her, keep her from harm.

Then again, the Dark Lord's reach was great. Was the headmaster of Hogwarts truly powerful enough to defeat him? If he was, why hadn't he done so already?

Bellatrix slumped, the bottle falling from her fingers. The glass shattered, littering the carpet with thousands of emeralds, the dark red liquid of the wine seeping across the floor. Her initiation ceremony to the Death Eaters was in little over a week. She had very little time to make a choice, yet in reality, there was no choice to make. She knew what she had to do. As the beginnings of a plan formed within her mind, Bellatrix snatched her wand from the table and threw the curtains open.

Daylight streamed into her sanctuary, searing her eyes. Colours assaulted her, the pale blue of the sky reminiscent of Narcissa's eyes, the grass matching Bellatrix's own house tie. The red breast of a robin caught her eyes; like the robin, Andromeda rebelled against the cynicism of the world. She would have been furious to see her in such a state, even if she had been disowned from the family.

She slowly closed her eyes, sighing. The Dark Arts, especially the Unforgivables, had always affected her, more than any of her classmates. She supposed it was her parents who were to blame, they had pushed their blood supremacist views upon her.

Bellatrix was wise enough to know that she could not overcome a lifetime of conditioning. She truly did believe wizards were better than Muggles, but she recognised that being caught in the Dark Lord's web was certainly the worst way to promote change. She regretted becoming ensnared in his trap. She regretted losing Andy - and Narcissa, to an extent - but above all, she regretted the hold the Dark Arts had over her. She became a different person while using them, an insane, hateful soul who remained bound to the darkness pushed upon her. A woman who, along with the other initiates, had slaughtered a school of children. They may have been Mudbloods and filthy half-bloods, but they were still young. Innocent, like she had once been.

She guided her wand to the bottom of her chin, gliding along her neck and leaving a blazing white trail against her pale skin. She stood, statuesque, for minutes, preparing herself.

A deep, shuddering breath.

"_Crucio_!"

A process began, an endless cycle of torture, fueled by Bellatrix's self-loathing. She truly wanted to cause herself pain, cause herself to become catatonic. As the madness took hold, as insanity gripped her in a firm embrace, Bellatrix started to slow, glad that she had eliminated the weakness within her. She no longer wanted to torture herself until she became nothing but an empty shell; instead, she wanted to seek her master. After all, he could help her further her knowledge of the Dark Arts.

As she left her bedroom, the last shred of decency fled, leaving a battered and corrupted husk of what she once was. Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured herself into insanity, capitalising on her own self-hatred, but perhaps she had always been mad. It had been all too easy to wage a war of attrition upon herself, wearing herself down into the dark madness that had ensnared her. Perhaps it would have been better for her to beg Dumbledore for forgiveness, but Bellatrix had made her choice. Despite the difficulty of enduring such pain, she had ultimately chosen what was easy, not what was right.

Bellatrix woke up in a cold sweat, the memory of her past self still flashing before her in bits and pieces. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of her bed, pushing her long dark hair out of her face. It had be a long while since she had had a dream like that. Was it a dream, or a nightmare? Definitely a dream, a good one; it had to have been. What else could it be when it was about joining her Lord in the fight to lead the wizards out of hiding to rule over the Muggles and put the Mudbloods in their rightful place? She smiled to herself, but it wasn't the smile that her sisters would remember, the peaceful innocent smile of a child. It was the smile of a mad woman, one who had completely lost herself to the Dark Arts.

* * *

"Oh, Andy. I'm glad you came over! Just pop Nymphadora over there; I'm sure Charlie will be glad to have a playmate!"

Nymphadora Tonks, age four (nearly five!) was swiftly placed down upon the slightly muddy ground of the Weasley's garden. The long grass reached up to her chin, a particularly obnoxious strand tickling her nose and causing her to sneeze loudly. Glancing furtively around - seeing nobody through the thick grass - she wiped her nose on her arm, using her new dress to wipe the offending mucus away from her skin. She smiled to herself, giggling at the thought of disobeying her mother.

"Hey, Nymphy!"

She turned to see Charlie Weasley, smirk adorning his face.

She scowled at the use of the nickname and stuck her tongue out at him.

Charlie smirked. "What's the matter, Nymphy? Don't you like your name?"

She humphed and turned away from him.

Charlie frowned.

"Is it that bad?"

She nodded still not facing him. "My daddy said it's rude to call people names."

He scrunched his brow, as he watched her. "Why does that matter?"

The young girl glanced around the area, before saying in a daring whisper, "Because, my Dad is _bloody _brilliant!"

Both children dissolved into giggles, hoping that neither of the two fierce mothers in the house had heard them.

Charlie took a large stick in his hands and started to move forward, using the thin piece of wood as a makeshift walking stick.

"My Dad's cooler. He's helping Mr. Potter make a flying motorcycle!"

"Mum's actually letting him do that?" Bill asked his brother, coming to a halt next to the two younger children. He had experienced his mother's wrath on several occasions; at 6 years old, he caused trouble literally everywhere his feet took him.

"Well, no. You won't tell her, though, right?" Charlie looked at the other two children hopefully.

Tonks shook her head as fast as she could. "Why would I tell 'er? I don't want to mess up Cousin Sirius' present."

"How did you know who it was for?" Charlie asked, in awe of her perceptiveness.

"I heard Mr. Potter say so."

Charlie nodded, grinning broadly.

* * *

Molly bustled about the kitchen, flicking her wand to send a pair of chipped mugs flying out to land on the table. She paused for a second, sparing a quick glance out of the window to where Charlie and the sweet darling little Nymphadora were playing together in the garden. Once she had assured herself that the children were still in one piece, she set the kettle on the stove to boil and turned to Andromeda, who was waiting politely at the doorway.

"The tea won't be a minute. Do sit down, Andy."

"Thank you, Molly. Goodness knows it's nice to be able to relax for a minute..."

"Oh, yes, children can be a bit of a handful, can't they?" said Molly, with a wry smile.

"I'm afraid this is going to be it for me. Nymphadora is about as much as I can handle! I don't know how you manage with three boys..."

"Sometimes I wonder that myself. Honestly, the amount of trouble Bill and Charlie can cause is not to be reckoned with. And another couple are on their way!" Molly's hand slipped down almost unconsciously to her bulging stomach. As if in reply, the twins made themselves known with a couple of sharp kicks. Molly already had an inkling that these two would quickly add themselves to the Burrow's chaos.

Andromeda bit her lip. "I just wish we could bring them up in a safer world. Did you see the Daily Prophet this morning? Another disappearance - I can hardly believe it..."

Molly's heart broke for the younger witch in front of her. She couldn't imagine how it would feel to be forced to break away from your family and fight for the opposite side. This war was hard enough on her, but at least she had full support from her family and friends.

Molly took a deep breath. "I suppose all we can do is fight - as hard as we can."

Andromeda's face took on a steely look. "Yes, I'll fight." She paused, her eyes drifting over to the window. "For my family."

The two witches fell into silence, thinking of the war, the disappearances and the losses that were sure to come. On the stove, the kettle began to whistle shrilly, steam twisting up from its spout. After simmering for a little while, it hollered, "This water isn't going to stay hot forever, you know!" Still, there was no response from the two witches. The kettle let out a sound remarkably like a sigh, a puff of steam floating up into the air, and tipped up onto one end, pouring water into each mug.

Turning to face Andromeda, Molly nodded. "Me too."


	13. Chapter Twelve- Sisyphean

_A/N: Hello our darling readers. We would like to apologize for the long wait between chapters. From August to April is quite a long wait. Life just has that tendency of snatching you up at the most in opportune moments. Plus, collective cases of writer's block does not help matters. But now we are back, and writing again. We're not giving up on this story: we WILL complete it and it's sequels. _

_Also, just so that you are all aware. There are currently only four of us working on the story anymore. The Royal Scribe has now changed her penname to By the Goddess, Spiralling-Down, Blood and Moonshadows (who changed her penname to rosemarried), and I (Lady Phoenix Fire Rose) are all still working on it._

_So we hope that you enjoy our latest installment of The Synthesis Trilogy Book One- Salvific! - The Seventh Horcrux, Scar!_

_Addendum: throw some reviews our way, and maybe it won't be almost a year until the next chapter. Kidding, kidding! (no, but siriusly, throw some reviews our way, beauties.) - The fairest and most beautiful horcrux of them all, Diadem. (She only wishes it was so, Scar)_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve- Sisyphean**

**- laborious, endless and futile -**

* * *

**Metric- The Lifestyle**

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_I wish you were a song to play_

_I wish you had something to say_

_I wish you were a song to play_

_I wish you had something to say_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby, for you and me)_

_(Never the lifestyle baby)_

* * *

Lucius flicked his long hair back, smoothing it down with his left hand as he did so. It was a trait he had developed during his OWL's, and one that he had carried through into his adult life. It became almost like a nervous twitch- whenever Lucius found himself concentrating for a long period of time, he would comb a hand through the blonde mass to soothe his mind and block out distractions.

His right hand was consumed with small, repetitive, motions. He found himself turning far more pages than he cared to admit, and his fingers bore the marks of repeatedly gripping the small handles that allowed him access to every wizard and witch ever born in the last twenty years. Each wizard or witch had their own box and, much to Lucius' annoyance, their own brass handles that seemed determined to mark his pale, soft skin.

He had thought that it would be easy, finding information on the four aggressors that had attacked and defeated a team of Death Eaters weeks ago, but it was proving more difficult than he could have expected, and he was becoming frustrated. As he reached the end of each page he lost a little more hope of finding anything of use here, and with the flip of each page he found himself gaining it back just to have it ripped away again.

The motion of simply flipping pages became so repetitive he nearly skipped it - a photograph of a boy with messy black hair, round glasses, and a smile that was happy and mischievous. He thought - no he was sure this was him! The boy who had led the attack. He quickly skimmed the short blurb beneath his picture and found the name - James Potter. 17, so still a student at Hogwarts then. Lucius grinned, his heart pounding with something close to excitement, something he couldn't quite put his finger on - but he wasn't concerned with that right now. He jumped out of his seat, suddenly alight with energy when he had been nearly falling asleep only minutes ago. Not even bothering to replace the record book back on the shelf where he had found it, he bolted for the door, eager to tell the Dark Lord what he had just discovered.

* * *

James walked down the hall, keeping to himself for once in his life. At least 10 Slytherins had crossed his path and yelled jeers at him, expecting a duel or at least a response of some sort, but instead got no reaction whatsoever and earning him strange looks from the entire student body for his out of character behavior. He couldn't care less, though, as he was practically bursting with excitement on the inside. In mere minutes, he would be initiated into The Order of the Phoenix, a secret society created by Professor Dumbledore to fight Lord Voldemort's Death Eaters, many of which lay inside of Hogwart's itself, much to Dumbledore's dismay. He had been reluctant to allow any students to be inducted, but finally agreed that any student of age should be allowed to join if they so wished. And Merlin, did James wish.

As he rounded the corner, he walked straight into the rest of the Marauders - literally. He nearly fell backwards, but Remus caught and righted him while Sirius laughed.

"Walk much, Prongs?" he teased. James made a graphic gesture in his general direction, but laughed as he did so. Nothing could bring down his mood, not today.

"Finally, huh?" he said, not daring to say more but also knowing he didn't have to. Remus and Sirius nodded eagerly, and Peter smiled.

"Ironic though, what with my furry little problem." Remus said. They all chuckled. "Still exciting though. I never thought I would really be any use in this war."

"Do you really think it's going to become a war?" Peter asked. Remus hesitated.

"I don't know." he said truthfully. "I hope not." They all rounded another corner and came to the entrance to Dumbledore's study. For a moment, nobody moved or spoke. They all stared at the closed door almost unable to believe they were really there. Now that they were actually here it was almost scary. No, not almost, it was terrifying. Dumbledore hadn't wanted any young people in the Order because of the threat to their lives, and while all of them were willing to fight and to be brave, there was still a certain eeriness about willingly joining an organization that could very well be the death of you and your friends. James wasn't sure which was worse, and as he glanced at his best friends out of the corners of his eyes he knew similar things were on their minds as well.

"We could always turn back now." Sirius voiced what they were all thinking, but no one made a move to turn away, not even Peter. "Right then." he said. "Then it's settled." he took a half a step towards the stone gargoyles that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's study.

"Jelly slugs." The gargoyles jumped aside and allowed them to ascend the narrow staircase that lead to the large wooden door. Sirius knocked and the professor's voice called, "Come in."

They swung open the door to find quite a few adults as well as three other fellow students; Frank Longbottom and his girlfriend Alice, who had already graduated, as well as Lily Evans, whom James had known would be here, and yet it was somehow still a bit of a pleasant and comforting surprise. It calmed his nerves a little. Apparently able to sense his discomfort, she gave him a warm, reassuring smile as he stepped into the room.

"Ah, hello! Welcome. Please, take a seat wherever you'd like." Professor Dumbledore said, gesturing to the circle that had been created out of Dumbledore's desk and an assortment of mismatched chairs, only half of which were taken. Obviously, not the entire Order had been able to come. James was almost disappointed that he wasn't able to meet everyone tonight, but he knew most of them were probably out doing important work. "This is Remus Lupin, James Potter, Sirius Black-" Sirius's name caused only a slight amount of stir, but Sirius pretended not to notice and Dumbledore pushed on. "-Lily Evans, Frank Longbottom and his fiancee Alice, and Peter Pettigrew. They are our newest initiates." A few people mumbled a hello and Professor McGonagall gave them a look somewhere between disapproval and pride. "And this is Elphias Doge, Dorcas Meadows, Gideon Prewett, Alastor Moody and Emmeline Vance." Dumbledore beamed around at all of them, and his smile was almost out of place at a war meeting, but nobody else seemed to think it strange so James kept quiet.

The man Dumbledore had called Moody cleared his throat and everyone looked over at him. "If we could get down to business now?" he said in an irritated tone. Dumbledore nodded at him. "Good. I've been keeping tabs on Karkaroff-"

"Igor Karkaroff is a suspected Death Eater." Doge added for the benefit of the newer members, giving Moody a look. Moody looked annoyed at being interrupted but said nothing.

"-and he was tracked to the Albanian woods." He paused, and then with a glance at Doge, added, "There's a forest in Albania we think is one of a few possible bases for the Death Eaters."

"So you saw him entering the woods?" Prewett asked. Moody nodded. "And what about exiting?"

"He left about 24 hours later, around 20:00." He answered.

"That's only an hour before I saw Dolohov leave." Emmeline Vance said.

"Dolohov? As in Antonin Dolohov?" Sirius asked incredulously. He wasn't really that shocked; he didn't exactly think he was above it. It was still surprising to have in confirmed, though.

"No, his father." Vance clarified. "Although I wouldn't be surprised to see Antonin go the same way."

They continued to talk about troop movements, old battles, and potential recruits from Hogwarts. Despite wanting to listen, James found himself growing bored.

Where was the excitement, where was the danger?

He supposed that he should probably count himself lucky that neither he nor his friends would be thrust into battle anytime soon- after all, he wanted to keep them safe- but the meeting was nothing like he expected. He had thought that they'd be taking the offensive, striking at key locations, but Dumbledore seemed far more concerned with defence. Yes, it was important to keep people safe, but James had always subscribed to the theory that the best defence was the best offence.

He was confident that both Lily and Remus were at least paying attention, so, as he exchanged a bored glance with Sirius, he began to plan the greatest prank in Hogwarts history. And best of all, it would help scare off potential Death Eater recruits.

And the more he thought about it, the better it seemed. He couldn't wait to gather the Marauders together and discuss it!

* * *

Ginny smiled to herself as she woke, sleep still trying to lock her eyelids closed with a slightly uncomfortable tickle. The blankets that had been so neatly folded across her bed the night before lay in a tangled mass, indiscernible from the rest of her form. The fabric hugged her curves and splayed out over her body as if she was enveloped by a thin film of water. Her hair fanned out across her pillow, and the early morning light sprinkled the orange with specks of bright colour. Her teeth, tinted slightly yellow from a small layer of plaque that had formed during the night, shone out into the semi-darkness of the new day.

For the first time in a long while, Ginny had slept dreamlessly, and, as if to make the remarkable feat even more pleasing, had woken to blissful peace. Her room was silent; her only companions the singing birds outside. She felt well rested and content, an emotion that she had hardly felt since they had landed in the past. She had grown adept at blocking Riddle - she had finally succeeded in compartmentalising him completely, if only for a short time. She had also managed to fight off the lapping presence of her other half, and her attacks had been decreasing in frequency too. Perhaps she should have been worried, concerned about a potential retaliation against her barriers, but she could not truly bring herself to care if she was being lulled into a false sense of security or if she was very much protected. She had grown tired of the shadowy presences in her head, and one night without them was enough to cleanse her mind and revitalise her body.

* * *

Class ended and Lily emerged from the classroom alone and looked around at the growing throng of students in the hallway, eager for some company. She spotted Harry at the end of the hall and pushed her way over to him.

"Porter!" she called to him. "Hey, Porter!" Harry turned and smiled at her, moving to the wall so he wouldn't be swept away and she could catch up. "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Harry said with a shrug. "You?"

"I'm alright." she said. Lily thought, trying to find a way to ask him about the Order. Harry seemed like an excellent candidate, but if he didn't know she didn't want to be the one to expose them and he hadn't been at their meeting last night. Dumbledore _had _said that not everyone came to every meeting. But then again, why would Harry miss his first ever meeting? "Been up to anything interesting lately?" she settled on.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing really. Just studying - and trying not to get lost. This school is huge." he told her, looking around. Something about his tone set off an alarm in her head. Was he lying to her? Or was he in the same boat that she was, unable to say anything for fear of giving the Order away?

"Was Parcelsus a small school then?" Harry nodded. "It must be pretty hard for you guys then, especially with the moving staircase." Lily said sympathetically.

"What about you? Have you been doing anything?"

"Just... being with friends." Lily said lamely, not sure if she should reveal anymore. Harry nodded.

"They seem nice." he said awkwardly. Lily nodded and there was a beat of silence. "Well, erm, I should be... getting to my next class." Harry said. Lily knew he had a free period, but was too polite to say anything. Besides, she didn't know where to take the conversation either.

"Alright, I'll see you around, then." she said and walked off in the direction of the common room. Lily was pretty sure that conversation had gotten her absolutely nowhere. She still didn't know if Harry was part of the Order - in fact, she was more confused than ever about him. She sighed, disappointed in herself. How was she ever going to be a useful member of the Order of the Phoenix if she couldn't even get information out of Porter?

Peter sat alone in the dorm, taking advantage of the one free period in his schedule that wasn't also a free period for one of the other three Marauders, which were almost always spent planning pranks and not doing the homework he used this period for. He had gotten more detentions for unfinished homework just this year than he could count on both hands and feet. He scratched his face with the end of his quill, frowning at his half-completed Potions essay.

"Oh, Wormy!" came James's voice in a sing-song tone from outside the dorm. "Are you here, Wormy?" Peter sighed and gingerly placed his essay in his trunk for safe-keeping before responding.

"I'm here," he called back. James bounded into the room.

"What are you doing holed up in here?" James asked him. Peter shrugged.

"Nothing really," he responded. He didn't want to say he had been doing homework; he wasn't the bookworm of the group, that was Remus, and he knew his place. "Just hanging out. Why?"

James shook his head. "Dear Wormy, when will you ever learn that a moment not spent thinking up or carrying out a prank is a moment wasted?" he chided. He seized Peter's arm and proceeded to attempt to drag him over to the door, but couldn't seem to pull him off the bed. It was times like these Peter was happy for his extra weight.

"A prank? Did you have one in mind?" he asked as James sat on his own bed, defeated.

"When do I not have a spectacular prank in mind?" said James. He paused. "Well, I don't have it quite worked out yet... See, the idea is that if I can use the pranks to do something good, then Evans can't be mad at me for them, can she?" Peter considered this.

"I guess not." he said slowly, although he was fairly certain she still could be mad at him regardless of good intentions.

"So my plan is to find a way to use a prank to scare off Slytherins who want to be Death Eaters. No way Evans could say that's a bad thing, right?" Peter only stared at him, frozen, no idea how to respond. He'd known this was going to come up. He'd known he would have to lie, that he couldn't avoid it forever, but he hated it. He was a horrible liar and knew that if he even tried, James would see right through him. He suddenly noticed he had been rubbing his forearm and immediately dropped his hand, praying James hadn't noticed. Luckily, he was still off in his own little world.

"-and so once she sees that I'm doing this to stop new recruits for the Death Eaters, she'll realize that I'm not actually an arrogant toerag- you okay, Pete?"

"Huh? What do you mean? I'm fine." His voice sounded a bit feeble, and it didn't do much for his case. James frowned.

"You sure? You sound a bit sick... Sure you don't want to go to Madam Pomfrey?" he asked. Peter shook his head vehemently.

"No. I'm fine." he said, a bit more firmly. James stared at him for a moment before shrugging. He jumped up off the bed, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"C'mon, then, we've got to track down Pads and Moony so we can tell them about my brilliant plan!" And with that, he dashed out the door. Not wanting to seem suspicious, especially in light of what had just happened, Peter followed without a single grumble.

* * *

Tom sat within the barriers of Ginny's mind, splayed out across what he thought of as the floor, but was in reality, another barrier designed to stop any chance of escape.

But that wasn't her only defence.

One eye cracked open, surveying her mindscape, and one area in particular. A girl filled the space. It looked like Ginny, but wasn't her. No, her nose was a little too cute, her hair was too intricately styled, her body the archetypical hourglass, as opposed to her normal slightly too skinny form.

It was a common defence constructed by amateur occlumens. Similar to how a Patronus was constructed, the girl before him was a literal embodiment of every positive emotion Ginny had about herself. Unfortunately, the defence was far from perfect, and took in emotions such as pride, lust, and greed. Sure, it made her feel good- and was primarily the reason why the Ginny before him was so idealised: she had pride in her appearance, but lusted after features she didn't have- but they were weak links that a skilled legilimens could exploit against her own buried negativity.

And he wasn't just skilled. He was a master.

Getting to his feet, he strode towards the not-Ginny. He extended his finger. He touched her forehead. He laughed.

Then everything exploded.

In every single direction, thousands of bodies scattered out. Thousands of Ginny's. All an emotion: all the doubt, the fear, the rage. Each a snapshot, a single moment.

It was truly beautiful.

With a moment of concentration, they all started to group together, forming into separate entities, each a representation of a negative emotion.

Self-Doubt sat alone, off to the side, staring forlornly at the ground. Her face was marred with dozens of angry red spots, her hair was lank and greasy, her eyes red rimmed and her cheeks tear-stained. In her arms she clutched a plush doll of Harry Potter.

"I'm so ugly."

"He'll never love me!"

"What's Cho Chang got that I haven't?"

She would be very interesting to explore. Her insecurities were so...normal. Yet the object of her affections so extraordinary.

Next came Anger. Her face was flushed, matching her hair, which whirled around in the still air as if she was caught in a storm. Her wand shot sparks from her hand, and her mouth was curled into a snarl. Her breaths came in sharp gasps.

"Fuck you, Hermione. You just want him for yourself!"

"Leave me alone! I didn't open the chamber!"

"Piss off, Mum! You don't understand me!"

Again, more angles to exploit. But he wanted something more. He swept his eyes over the assembled aspects of Ginny, and then he saw her.

Insanity danced around, talking to herself, never shutting up. In her hand she held a knife. At her feet lay Hermione Granger. Underneath her lay Harry Potter, and further still was Ron Weasley. Beyond those three, the pile of bodies was far too numerous to count. Ginny certainly wasn't insane, but everybody had aspects of it in them, and his old diary had brought out Ginny's potential for insanity, buried underneath layers of psyche. He was sure Insanity wouldn't even have appeared to him if he wasn't a master legilimens.

This was where things got interesting. He was bored, and this gave him a challenge. Ginny's barriers were strong, but the insane element of her own psyche could slip in and speak to her. It would creep her out, after all, Insanity was truly a scary sight. It could influence her actions, and tire her out. Then he could break her defences.

Plus the idea of Ginny arguing with an version of herself that was quite the talker amused him to no end. She would never sleep again. It would be even better if both him and insanity could whittle her down, but that was quite a way off, yet. For now, Tom decided to focus on infiltrating her barriers with Insanity.

It would take some time, but it would be worth it upon completion.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk in his office deep in thought. He had a puzzle on his hands. He often enjoyed doing puzzles. He often found them to be very stimulating, the more challenging of a puzzle the more he enjoyed it. But in this, there was something about this puzzle that didn't sit quite right with him. Something strange and unnatural, as if the pieces didn't belong. He knew that wasn't because he didn't have all the pieces. He rarely did. In fact, one of the things he enjoyed most about puzzles was filling in the blanks. No, in this case it was much more than that. When he looked at everything he knew about what was going on he found it to be surprisingly lacking, and that was what worried him most.

He had spent many years paying attention to what other people barely noticed, learning things that had been all but forgotten. He had spent many years studying under the great Alchemist Nicholas Flamel. He had helped to discover the twelve use of dragon's blood. Even in his time, he had defeated a dark lord. Among a great many other accomplishments, though, most of them were rather trivial. And yet, with all of his vast stores of knowledge, everything that he had seen, learned and done his life (half which could equal or even surpass what most people accomplish in their lives), he had nothing that could help him solve this mystery. Nothing added up, and yet here it was playing out before his very eyes.


End file.
